


By the Skin of Your Teeth

by YsaX64



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Human/Monster Romance, Monster Transformation, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: Her hand found the base of his neck, where the scales budded, and she felt as he shivered under her palm."When did it start?"She traced the bumps of his spine with a thumb, covered by thin scales yet to fully form. Hubert didn’t answer her question, shifting on his weight.After a raid on Shambhala, Hubert starts developing a myriad of feathery and scaly problems, while Edelgard has to deal with its causes—and its consequences.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33
Collections: Edelbert Trick-or-Treat 2020





	By the Skin of Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> *honks my clown nose*
> 
> Look the prompt was just that good. Sometimes. Sometimes you gotta be possessed by a prompt.  
> Either way, happy halloween for all of you, also thanks to MJ for the title and for bonking me gently to keep writing. Wuv ya.
> 
> For @darkwavezx  
> Happy Halloween!!!

Aymr cleaved cleanly through the dark mage, spilling blood on the dark floors of Shambhala and Edelgard still wasn't satisfied.

The surge of rage flowed from her axe directly into her bloodstream. It burned through her veins. The body of the dark mage didn't have time to convulse before he fell to the ground with a thump.

Her axe twitched, eager to feed on the blood of her enemies. One enemy in particular.

Her eyes darted from dark robes to dark robes. Keeping the momentum, she surged through the battlefield, heels clicking on the strange floor. The screams of the Agarthans filled the air with dread, but it was all an indistinct hum as her gaze focused on her target.

Thales was near the back, close to a set of doors illuminated by red and blue lights. His cape and the furs belied his location, enough to blind her sight in a curtain of red. Her jaw clenched. Her body moved on its own, not caring for the bodies of the Agarthans lying on the ground.

The mastermind behind all this suffering. First the dragon fell, then the worm. The thought filled her with odd satisfaction. Her fist clenched on the axe’s handle, feeling as it moved. Her legs carried on without her as if her body had a will of its own, stalking her prey. The man dared to turn around and his sallow face twisted in a scowl as he ran further into the belly of the beast.

She ran to the doors before she thought about what she was doing. As her heart skipped a beat, Edelgard gave the battlefield one last glance. She shouldn’t. Too far from her allies. Still, he could escape if she did nothing.

The thought made her stomach churn.

With a growl, she turned around, following the blur of a red cape. The sprawling hallways were made like the guts of the underground snake, blinding with blue hues of straight lines. Even the floor clicked too uniformly under her heels, enough to make a shiver run up her spine as she rushed behind the sorcerer. The sharp hiss of a door opening like a gaping maw echoed. She knew he had rushed off somewhere, but where?

She halted, only then glancing at the doors. So similar! All the same type, black and blue and red. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking for—

“Your Majesty.”

A familiar voice called through the haze of her mind, pulling her back to the land of the living.

Hubert ran behind her, visibly breathless as he tried to keep up. His uniform had been torn, exposing a wicked bruise covering his ribs and gashes on his right thigh, but nothing that seemed life-threatening.

“Hubert,” she growled, coming off as more aggressive than she would’ve liked. “Have you seen him?”

His green eyes gleamed with confusion, but it took only a moment before he recovered, straightening his back.

“Your Majesty,” he repeated himself, his voice steadier. “The battle is still raging outside. It was careless of you to run off on your own. Please, leave this to me.”

To him! Her blood boiled inside her veins, burning through everything. Her heart pounded on her chest, deafening her to her own prudence.

“I will not give him the opportunity to flee, Hubert. You took the reins of this war for too long,” she hissed, glancing back at the doors before her. If she could not choose, then she would have to test it. “If he flees—I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

She gripped her hungry axe with both hands, raising it over her head before swinging it down, ripping the first set of double doors. The noise echoed over the rage of the muted, distant battlefield, only to reveal an empty room with gleaming boxes and ancient letters.

Hubert, probably knowing better than to insist, followed her example, casting his foul magic to consume the doors. The darkness took shape, gripping the metal and twisting until it broke with a ripping screech.

Edelgard burst through the first door she saw, ripped in half. No one. Boxes and metal and lights, no Thales.

Doors fell one after the other, her eyes darting from side to side. He had to be there, between the hisses and the hums of magic. Hubert's steps were not far behind her, but she was barely aware of it as her axe cleaved through a wider, gleaming door. In a ragged cut, she forced it open.

The hallway before her was bigger than the other, surrounded by the gleaming lights of boxes, letters she couldn't comprehend,  
of metal and thunder magic. In the end, another door left open out of clear carelessness. She could feel it. It was there.

Her steps became hurried and tense, not caring for stealth. It was a sharp contrast with Hubert, whom she barely noticed as he followed closely, silent like a shadow. Her heart thumped inside her chest, the drumroll leading to the finale.

Blood and sweat ran down her temples in rivulets. Her breathing was loud and heavy and Edelgard made a conscious effort to not growl as she stalked her prey. He couldn't have escaped. There was nowhere to escape, not so far underground. And, if there was, she would have to find him.

Still, the ominous thoughts didn't last. The incessant, unnatural gleam of the metal boxes flickered in the room before her, an insistent clicking noise filling her ears. Thales. It had to be.

It reignited the thrill of the chase inside her heart. Her nostrils flared. She took a step further into the room, ready to—

"Your Majesty," Hubert hissed sharply behind her. His fingers curled around her wrist, stopping her advances. The grip was gentle, but it still flared annoyance inside her heart.

Regardless, she heeded the unspoken advice, staying right at the door, impossible to be seen from inside. Hubert was the first inside, for his steps were as quiet as a cat's. Bah! It was surely useless, for she had already made enough noise.

The clicking didn't stop, enough to grate her nerves. Incessant noise. Her grip on her axe tightened. For a moment, she longed for the shield left battered and broken on the battlefield, even if she knew it was useless against Thales' sorcery.

Moments passed. Her jaw was so clenched it hurt.

The clicking stopped. It didn't take two seconds before a loud, vibrating noise filled the hallways, enough to spark instinct inside of her.

Edelgard entered the room. The place had the same gleaming boxes, but they were larger, like a mirror reflecting an incomprehensible spell in words. Hubert was melted with the shadows of a corner, glancing at her with parted lips and eyes wider than she ever saw before. Thin tubes of a green fluid connected to a larger, coffin-like vessel standing in the middle of the room and the liquid flowed through the tubes slowly, towards the strange compartment.

And Thales stood before it, turning on his heels to face her.

His inhuman eyes were dull, all perverse disdain as he spoke up first.

"You," he hissed. "You could have been the Emperor to reforge the world. Yet you chose this."

Her throat was constricted and even so she managed to spat out a few bitter words.

"There is nothing I regret about my decisions. Especially not now."

The fury inside her veins spilled in a blinding red.

She lunged, shortening the distance between them. Thales stepped to the side, escaping the first swing of her axe. It hit a machine instead, sparks flying, burning her skin. She barely felt it, turning around to face her opponent.

Thales took the opportunity to cast his own foul magic, the circle gleaming like a beacon. She turned around, pulling Aymr from the metal with sickening rumble as she lunged. There was no time. She just needed to be faster.

"Your Majesty!"

Hubert's voice rang in her ears, followed by a burst of purple energy blasting Thales to the side. He crashed against the opposite wall, a raucous grunt deafening all other sounds.

Edelgard didn't look at Hubert or even Thales. She darted forward, Aymr in hand ready for a swing. She didn't know that the circle of magic was still lit up until it erupted in a blast of foul magic.

The burst of dark fire made her eyes water, but she didn't feel the full force of the blast. A loud sound of broken glass echoed, followed by a pained groan. Edelgard didn't hear it. Only Thales was in front of her.

The hit of her axe reverberated through the handle, making her arm tremble as Aymr cleaved his shoulder. Thales let out a gurgled moan, his back slipping as his knees weakened. Edelgard pulled her relic back, the fire inside her veins burning through.

His eyes were wild, staring at her with fearsome precision until she buried the blade on his chest, feeling the impact as his ribs broke, her axe piercing his rotten heart.

She could only hear the blood in her ears as the miserable man let out a whimper, quickly silenced by a twist of her relic. The gushing, wet sound of blood echoed for a moment in the lonely hallways, but it lasted no longer than a second.

Done. The worms were done, once and for all. She took in a deep breath, as much as her constricted lungs would allow. Done! They were finished, every single one of them, clearly, soon, as soon as the noises of the battle outside faded. It was time to ride off to the future, finally. Still, her mind reeled as her eyes lingered on the gleaming lights, the letters that soon no one would understand anymore.

"My lady." A voice called from a corner, taking Edelgard out of her thoughts. Her brow furrowed at the same time as she recognized Hubert's weak sounds. With a slow blink, her mind reoriented itself.

With a tug, Edelgard pulled her axe from the man's body, striding across the room to where Hubert had fallen. The very sight of him made her wince. He was sprawled near broken glass, the gleaming green liquid dulling in the air with a sizzle, turning into a deep red. The scent filled the air, ferric and minty, a combination strange enough to make her nose wrinkle.

However, all of her focus was on Hubert, who was completely drenched in it. His raven hair was colored a dull brown of dried fluid, even his torn clothes clung to skin. His jaw was visibly tense, but it was hard to even distinguish a proper expression underneath the grime. Only his bright green eyes, filled with a maelstrom of emotions she couldn't define, betrayed that the man was truly Hubert von Vestra.

"Are you alright?" she asked first, offering him a hand to help him up. He took it gladly, grunting as his knees wobbled. She had to grab his arm in order to balance him as his eyes were still unfocused, distracted.

He blinked slowly as his gaze seemed to adjust to the night situation. As if bewildered, it took him a moment to answer. From head to toe, he was colored red.

"As much as possible."

Edelgard nodded in response as her grip on his arm tightened, maintaining his equilibrium. After a few moments of adjusting, he managed to stay upright, steady enough for her to let go of him. His gaze, however, was focused on a point beyond her.

Furrowing her brows, Edelgard looked over her shoulder. Soon, it became obvious what he was staring at. Thales' body laid unmoving, surrounded by a pool of crimson, lying near the coffin-like structure in the center of the room. Both had large gashes that still seeped blood, that red venomous thing that ran inside the Agarthans.

A headache loomed over her.

With a low grunt, her eyes turned back to Hubert. His brow was deeply lined in resignation and his drenched hair clung to his face. The strange fluid smelled odd, foreign, close to a mixture of blood and eucalyptus, as if a foul beast had tried to fix its carcass breath by eating a mint bush. The scent was familiar, but she could not recall where she’d smelled it before. Biting her bottom lip, she attempted to force her memory, to think of where she had already—

Her line of thought, however, was interrupted as Hubert cleared his throat and straightened his back.

"Your Majesty, I believe that our assistance is needed elsewhere."

As he mentioned it, the noises of the battlefield reached her ears, calling her from beyond the strange room. She spared one more glimpse to Hubert – surely their friends would mock him later for his carelessness.

She would have to give him proper apologies later, but, for now, duty called. Her grip on Aymr's handle tightened as the relic called for blood.

"Yes. Of course."

______

For the following three weeks, Hubert evaded her.

She noticed it right away. It was uncommon for him to not appear before her to tell her the post-battle report, sending Ferdinand in his stead. When asked about it, the Prime Minister simply answered that he went to clean himself because of the fetid bath.

As a precaution, exams had been done on him and faith magic found nothing strange at first glance. She saw, in his eyes, the gleaming doubt, but nothing was said and so they moved on.

The journey back to Enbarr had been silent, especially considering that they won. Perhaps it had been her sour mood. She couldn't help but blame herself for the strange climate, especially because of her spiraling thoughts. All mundane, obvious conclusions. Thales was dead. She had to move on. She had just stepped out of the snake's den and she came back alive.

Even still, the dull ache inside her chest never quite subsided.

During all of it, Hubert had been carefully distant. Never enough to be truly suspicious, but still noticeable. The last to arrive, first to go out of a meeting. It was uncommon, even if not enough to warrant direct confrontation.

Once they were back to Enbarr, all of the Black Eagle Strike Force moving along to their territories and their daily lives, Hubert's distance was only made more evident. His nervous habits of tugging at his gloves, crossing his arms, running his fingers through his hair, all of it soon became a constant rather than the consequence of a moment of weakness.

Late at night, in bed, Edelgard found herself staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was up to, thinking of snakes and eagles and dragons. It had been a sleepless night for her, but, the next day, Hubert was just as dutiful and precise, nothing in his green eyes betraying that he knew of her dilemma.

It took her three weeks, however, to truly notice what was going on.

____________

"Excuse me, if you will allow me, I have other urgent matters that demand my attention."

His voice was rough, strained, lacking the usual even characteristic that branded it. It was enough to make even Caspar, bored and exhausted on the other side of the room, raise an eyebrow, the gears inside his brain turning slowly as if they were used to spinning too fast but lacked lubrification.

Edelgard looked at her Minister's face. Despite the breezy day, he had beads of sweat forming on his temples, running down to his pale, exposed neck. As her eyes followed a droplet, she found his hand tugging repeatedly at his collar, as if trying to adjust the back.

"Very well, Hubert," she seethed, not disguising her suspicion. Edelgard knew she wouldn't be able to hide from him even if she tried to, so the alternative was to go on the offensive. Only when the glint in his eyes faltered did she turn to the rest of the room, not missing a beat. "We will reconvene in one hour. It should be more than enough time to settle your matters."

Her eyes darted back to his. The green was dulled, gaze cast to the ground.

"Hopefully," he answered, despite the noise of the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force drowning out his voice.

When he slithered out of the room, Edelgard quickly dismissed a page trying to get her attention and proceeded to follow him. There was no point trying to hide. He was too well-trained for that. Furrowing her brows, her heels clicked with every step like a wolf's claws hitting the hard ground.

For a few moments, Hubert managed to keep a straight gait, saying nothing as he continued down the corridors. Perhaps back to his own room? Edelgard didn't have time to guarantee her assumption before Hubert spoke up.

"Your Majesty, surely your presence would be better suited somewhere else. I very much doubt you already finished the stack of papers I delivered to your office just this morning."

"The very same stack of papers that you handed over to me so quickly before I could even ask what were they for?" She made haste, shortening the distance between them despite the height difference. Up close, she could see that he panted like he had just marched the whole day.

She furrowed her brows at the lack of response, grabbing his sleeve to slow him.

"This cannot continue–"

Her words were cut short when Hubert suddenly halted, his knees buckling as he fell to the side, leaning on the wall.

Her heart stopped. She grabbed his forearm without thinking, trying to help him up, but he didn't react to her, merely gritting his teeth and staring at an undefined point.

"There is no need to worry," he said, managing to form words. "I'm not in pain."

"Do not start this again," she growled, feeling for his arms, then his shoulders. When her hands found his neck, she stilled.

Ridges. Scales, fully formed, sprouting right at the base of his neck.

His eyes were wild when he stared back at her.

"Come to my room," he blurted out, suddenly straightening his posture as if nothing had happened at all. A sprout of what seemed to be a short tail now poked out from under his cape. "I will explain it all in due time."

_________

Inside her mind, Edelgard knew that birds and reptiles were surprisingly close. It was a remnant from one of Hanneman’s ramblings, all the way back when her eyes were brighter and her fury had found no release. Still, it had always sounded doubtful, farfetched at best. All her qualms were promptly quelled when she saw Hubert’s back.

A line of black scales trailed down his spine and grew more pronounced at the small of his back, culminating in what seemed to be the tip of a growing tail. The small appendage, partially hidden by his black pants, was nothing compared to the pair of protrusions poking out of his shoulder blades, which she could only assume to be sprouting wings. The scales, from the middle of his back up, spreaded to the sides, transitioning seamlessly into dark feathers that covered up the strange extremities.

She pressed her lips together, averting her gaze. There wasn’t much in Hubert’s room that could catch her eyes or that she could even fake paying attention to. Despite his high rank, everything he had was unbearably plain. From his bed to his table, there was barely anything that could distinguish it as Hubert’s own room.

“Apologies for the clutter. I fear it is not befitting of your presence,” he said, the slight chuckle in his voice contrasting sharply with his straight back. The proto-wings moved as he shifted, the mattress yielding to his weight.

Her head raced with incomplete thoughts. What was that? She had seen horrors of many kinds, but that was a new high. Worse, his appearance didn’t bother her nearly as much as perhaps it should. She had seen Demonic Beasts ravaging villages and Giant Birds opening rifts in the sky. Hubert’s back should disgust her. That's what she told herself.

“It is fine,” she answered, her words too slow for her commanding voice. The answer felt meek even to her own ears, enough to make her heart clench in her chest. Hubert glanced at her from over one shoulder, a bright green eye poking from between the wavy hair. Instead of averting her eyes, as she should have, she spared him a small smile, her lips curling up.

Instead of providing comfort, however, it seemed to have only increased his discomfort, for he cast down his eyes, gesturing towards the door.

“My lady, I’m looking into a way of fixing this inconvenient blunder. Despite his usual demeanor, Linhardt seems to have taken an interest in my case,” he muttered, biting his bottom lip. Only then did she notice how much more pronounced his canines were, poking out of his lips if left unsupervised. Curse her lack of attention! Had she been more attentive, perhaps the problem would have already been solved. Surely, it would have been better.

Still, her resolve wouldn’t falter so easily.

“Hubert, I wish to help you. You surely must understand this.”

“This is below—”

“It is best if we do not start this again. Just allow me this indulgence, if nothing else. Amuse me.”

It was the least she could do, after three weeks of distance. Curse Thales for pervading her mind even in death. Hubert hesitated; she watched as his throat worked when he swallowed hard. The stalemate persisted for a few moments, before a sigh signaled his impending retreat.

“If you so wish, I have no power to stop you, but I must warn that we’ve found that there is little to be done. My body does not react improperly, nor do I feel any other discomfort. No usual test indicated anything out of ordinary, despite the very obvious issues.”

As he continued to state his reasons for his dismissiveness, Edelgard’s throat constricted as she found there was little to be said either. So, instead of talking, she settled for a more direct approach. She sat down on his bed, facing his back, and the words tumbling out of his mouth came to a sudden halt as his back stiffened, the protrusions extending outward as if attempting to make themselves bigger. Even in their immature form, the making of wings were there in protunded joints and grey feathers, only waiting for time and space to grow.

Her hand found the base of his neck, where the scales budded, and she felt as he shivered under her palm.

"When did it start?"

She traced the bumps of his spine with a thumb, covered by thin scales yet to fully form. Hubert didn’t answer her question, shifting on his weight.

“My lady,” he murmured, exasperated. The tinge of confusion didn't go unnoticed and it was enough to make her blink slowly. What was she doing? The question prompted itself inside her head, however, no answer came to the surface.

Instead of trying to answer the unspoken question, Edelgard got up.

"Do you have oil?" she asked, not daring to look into his eyes. "As I've said, I wish to help."

A moment of silence. A rustle of soft feathers echoed.

"Nightstand, second drawer."

She let out a relieved sigh. If nothing else, willing. She could work with that.

It didn't take long to find a vial of Morfis oil, barely used. Hubert was still in the same position, prefering to stare at the wall than back at her. Not that she could do much about it, considering her minister’s demeanor. Instead, she pressed her only advantage.

“Oil will aid with appearance- keeping, and it’s best if this doesn’t become public knowledge.” He huffed in response to the severe understatement, but Edelgard didn’t hesitate before sitting down again, facing his back. Patches of pale skin still were visible, but most of it was a black pattern of scales and feathers, the transition so seamless that it made her want to touch along the lines, try to define where it ended and where it began.

“I can do it myself, if you deem it necessary,” he mumbled, but it was impossible to tell what he was truly thinking as he rolled his shoulders tightly.

She carefully opened the vial.

“Your back, Hubert?” she teased, watching as the stub of a tail wagged back and forth slowly. “Surely you aren’t planning to try using your new appendages for this, because I cannot see how you would reach otherwise.”

He didn’t answer to that, only sparing her a raised eyebrow from over his shoulder. In response, she shot him a victorious smirk, having won this bout. At that, Hubert turned around quickly, but she could swore she saw a glimpse of a faint hue of pink.

“Start now, my lady,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “There should be no more than thirty minutes before we both have to be back at the meeting room.”

Was this his way of trying to dissuade her? The thought jumped inside her head, only to be swiftly dismissed. No, not when there was still so much time left. She poured a considerable amount of oil into one palm, eyes following the swirls and lines at his back. The first touch sent a shiver up her spine as he trembled beneath her hand, letting out the softest sigh she ever heard from him.

* * *

“About Hubert? Well, I think he is a bore, overworks himself a lot, even more than you—”

Edelgard pinched the bridge of her nose.

“No, not like this, Linhardt,” she hissed, she looked at her former classmates still scribbling whatever he was so focused on with his horrific calligraphy. She could decipher the word “crest," but if he told her it was actually “stress," she wouldn't be surprised. “I know your opinions on him all too well. I meant about his current…feathery situation.”

Only then did he look up from his note, interest perking. She could tell by the glint of his eyes, the slight smile on his face, and the way he proceeded to bombard her with information.

“Ah, yes, of course, I assume he told you. It is quite fascinating the way the feathers grow alongside the scales, as the transitional buds show intermediary properties when compared to the purer samples, and it makes for a wonderful—”

“Linhardt,” she growled, tapping her heel on the stone floor. The echo was enough to make him close his mouth, but rather than afraid, he appeared just mildly annoyed by her interruption. “This is no joking matter. If Hubert is truly ill, then something needs to be done quickly.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if she had just stated that the sky was blue.

“Of course that’s the case,” he shrugged, fumbling with a stack of disorganized notes. “The only problem is that we still don’t know what to do, so, until then, I may as well use the opportunity.”

She slammed a hand on his desk. The hit rattled his quills and other strange items. An inkwell dropped, splattering black ink on the ground and on her heels.

"Do you deem this some sort of experiment?"

"Snappy lately, aren't you?" he remarked, picking up the inkwell with his forefinger and a thumb, snarling at the mess as if that would make it clean itself. "Don't worry, I don't think our beastly friend is by any means a test subject. Well, at least not in the traditional sense."

At that, he got up, scowling as his back popped. He didn’t even give her a proper response before fumbling with a nearby drawer as another stack of papers fell to the floor with a muted noise. She pressed her lips together, flexing the fingers of the still closed fist that she’d slammed on the table. The wood had cracked around the hit and a dull feeling filled her chest up to her throat. Pulling back her hand, she pressed her lips together, biting back a remark about the mess before her eyes.

Linhardt stepped back, sighing as he stepped on the fallen papers. He carried a few sheets now, some parts marked in red ink. A crude sketch of the growing appendages she’d seen before were already there, which was undoubtedly worrying. Right beside it, another set of smaller, more imprecise sketches of what she could only assume to be his theories on how the process would continue. When he placed them back on the table, swatting her half-outstretched hand away, Edelgard had to control her own swelling anger.

“You see, Hubert has been having some difficulties lately. The process started slow enough that he barely noticed at first, but it has been evolving quite quickly.” He tapped a finger on his lips, half-lidded eyes cast to the side. “In fact, today’s progress was faster than the entirety of last week’s, which was already faster than the progress from the two prior weeks—”

“Wait,” she cut him off, glancing again at the paper on the table. Just as she expected, the first date was from exactly three weeks prior—the day they reached Enbarr after the fall of Shambhala. The rage boiled, threatening to spill, as she remembered the crimson-colored fluid that Hubert had so nonchalantly dismissed no more than a few hours after the battle’s end. When she managed to control it, she continued, “Three weeks?”

Stupid, foolish question! Despite the obvious answer, she still hoped for something different, a mistake. Unfortunately, Linhardt merely snickered, sparing her a quick shrug.

“Yes, that’s what I said. It's for how long we've been dealing with this new, fascinating phenomenon."

She pressed her lips together.

“Thank you, Linhardt, that’s all I need for now. Please, keep me updated.”

* * *

It took her a day to bring it up. Partly because she didn’t want to do so, partly because she failed to conceive how. After all, nothing had been detected during that first day at all, nothing that even indicated the strange liquid to be harmful, let alone the cause of all of it. Nevertheless, as she let the new information sink in throughout the rest of the day, watching Hubert became an infuriating task.

How could he so nonchalantly continue his day as if nothing was wrong at all? Perhaps it was because of the appearances he had to keep, but knowing that didn’t stop her stomach from turning whenever she watched him continue to hand over reports to Ferdinand as if he wasn’t rolling his shoulder every few minutes to accommodate and hide the new appendages as best as he could under his cape.

Still, her mulling time was up.

Three knocks echoed in the room, followed by a sharp pause. Waiting. He knew her too well. Her jaw clenched out of instinct and the beginning of a headache loomed over her head.

“Enter,” she said, setting aside her papers and straightening her back in the chair. None of her usual clerks and secretaries were nearby, all of them dismissed early to grant her an opportunity to talk with Hubert alone. She watched as the handle turned, the door opened, and her old friend walked inside her office as if it were a completely normal day. Even more unexpectedly, there was a slight smile on his face, which disappeared as soon as his eyes darted from side to side, noticing the emptiness of the room.

“Your Majesty, what do you require of me?”

He bowed, the gesture stiff, such a rare event. It took her a moment to recognize that, despite it all, Hubert was still trying to hide the sprouting wings. Her temples throbbed with pain and all she could do was tap her fingers on her desk before choosing her words carefully.

“Perhaps I merely wished to chat, Hubert,” she drawled, watching if he would take the bait. His posture was unmoving; his face, inscrutable. Very well. She continued, holding onto the fringes of her patience. “Surely you cannot find it so strange. At least take a seat for a moment. We have much to discuss, as you have been holding out on me for the last few weeks.”

The quip was calculated, precise.  
Her mind snapped at her, but her eyes were focused on Hubert.

“Of course,” he said, shaking his head. “Although I firmly believe your attention has a much better target at those papers on your desk.”

“I will make sure to take your opinion into account next time,” she answered, venom dripping from every word.

He was always too well-attuned to her. That was her only guess as to why his mood shifted as he tilted his head, sitting down in the chair before her desk. As he did, he had to lean forward, a gesture that she could only assume was done to accommodate the new appendages. Her anger rose to her throat again, mixed with a storm of complicated feelings, too much to untangle at once. Too much. She tapped her foot under the desk and, considering the silence besides the buzz of the palace outside, Hubert must have heard it, for he pressed his lips together for a mere moment before undoing the instinctive gesture.

“So,” she started, rolling her shoulders. “Any progress with the agricultural issues up in Hrym?”

The question took him by surprise, as the sharp intake of breath was as good as doubling over from a suckerpunch for Edelgard. Good. Safe ground. She stretched until her spine let out a satisfying  
, closing her eyes and letting out a heavy exhale. Hubert, much to her relief, didn’t question the mood shift, not even addressing the feathery issues before moving on to the requested discussion. Hubert had been the one charged with passing on to her all the oddities about the former Leiscester and Faerghus territories and, as such, her request had nothing inherently wrong, considering the border circumstances surrounding Hrym. Even still, his speech was stilted, a pause after every phrase. As such, Edelgard waited until he was done for her opportunity.

“If we’re done, Your Majesty,” he pointedly said, already rising from his chair. “There are tasks left to be—”

“We are not done,” she cut him off, gesturing for him to calm down. A relaxed look, a quiet demeanor. He was already so easy to alert, no need to give him more reasons.

A glimpse of a restless tail appeared in her field of vision for a second, but no more than that, for Hubert nodded, appearing unfazed by her insistence. He sat down again, placing his hands on his knee. Good. Wary, but not tense. She fiddled with a stack of papers, skimming through the pages, barely paying attention to its contents.

“You see,” she drawled, raising an eyebrow as her eyes darted back to the stiff man before her. “I spoke with Linhardt yesterday.”

She bit her bottom lip, tasting iron as he shifted on his seat. As she maintained her position, Hubert tapped his fingers on his knees, as if pondering what he was supposed to say. What she wanted him to say? Hard to tell, hard to guess. She could only wait until his lips curled up, revealing a droll smirk.

“Yes, as I‘ve said, he’s the one working on my case, alongside Lysithea. I suppose it’s no surprise that you decided to speak to him.”

Was he addressing her or himself with that last phrase? In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was the one who would have to bring it up after all, much to her annoyance. Instead of relenting to the anger, however, she mustered all of her patience before continuing.

"He told me that the symptoms have been appearing for three weeks by now. Is it some sort of ugly coincidence that it appears that it has been happening since our raid on Shambhala?"

The very name of that place burned on her tongue, enough for her to hook her ankles around each other under her desk, if only to stop the nervous tics of her legs. Worse, Hubert didn't help either, his sharp eyes revealing nothing but cold, calculating maquinations.

"It just may be," he chuckled, playing that guarded game again. "We don't know the source, my lady. May I remember that no common exam showed anything out of the ordinary and continues to not do so? According to our usual examinations, I'm as fit as I can be."

Her anger rose to her throat, her temples throbbed with a looming headache. Bah!

"Yet it is obvious that it isn't true," she snarled back. "If not the events down in Shambhala, then what?"

She remembered how Hubert had been drenched in liquid like a drowned cat, and about as happy. It was impossible that he had simply forgotten to mention it, simply tossed it aside as if meaningless!

He must have known too, for he changed tactics. A sequence of low, constant thuds followed before coming to a sudden halt as he bit his thin bottom lip, eyes analysing his next move.

"Well, as you say, it is one possibility."

"It is the most probable possibility, Hubert. You cannot possibly deny that."

A sharp memory rose to the surface, cutting her with thoughts of blood red and the smell of eucalyptus. Had she been sharper, faster, could she have avoided it all? Thales was dead and yet his devious machinations still stood. A bitter taste flooded her mouth. For once, she hadn't been able to shoot two birds with one arrow and that was her punishment for it. Very well. Didn’t she stand by her decisions no matter what? The only solution would be to push forward. No matter what. Hardening her heart, she continued even if Hubert only stared back at her in wary silence.

“It cannot be ignored,” she pressed, straightening her back.

“It wasn’t,” he answered simply, intertwining his gloved fingers. “In fact, I’ve already reported this to both Lysithea and Linhardt. I can only assume you didn’t ask this from them as well.”

She sputtered, but no coherent words left her mouth. Curse him. That was true. Worse, the truth! So used to his foolish schemes to avoid her eyes, she managed to trip over the obvious. She readjusted her feet under her desk, crossing her legs as the blood ran to her cheeks. Much to her chagrin, Hubert’s lips had curled up in a devilish smirk and the culprit for the thumping sound appeared in her view—a thick, short tail, tapping the arm of his chair. The nonchalance of it all was enough to make her heartbeat accelerate and it took everything she had to not get up from that chair and solve the issue with other methods.

“Can you truly blame me for being suspicious in these circumstances?” The argument was flimsy, she knew it the moment it left her mouth.

Hubert took advantage of her slip, lifting one thin eyebrow.

“How unlike you, to judge me without even the right of a defense.” Oh, but the hypocrisy tasted bitter, hard to swallow, despite the spice of sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Regardless, it’s even more odd to see you so temperamental.”

Cornered. Not untrue either, Despite her lingering annoyance, she had to acknowledge that Hubert knew her well, well enough to know how to make her retreat. With one last look at his green eyes, Edelgard cast her gaze down towards the abandoned papers.

“My apologies. I suppose the recent days took a toll on me, including the parts where you purposely hid that you were transforming to begin with.”

She couldn’t look at him again as silence stretched to an uncomfortable length, only catching glimpses of his restless new appendages betraying the turmoil of emotions.

“I will stand by what I’ve said before, my lady: this is beneath your notice. A problem that will be solved fast and will cause you no trouble. I believe I have a solution that I will try to solidify as soon as tonight.”

She could only hope that his words were true, but the sinking feeling on her stomach didn’t subside.

“If you say so. So, you are dismissed, Hubert. You may continue your tasks as you please. Don’t get too caught up and forget my reports.”

He got up in one fluid motion as soon as she was finished speaking, adjusting the new appendages until they were properly hidden under his cloak. He smoothed his coat with his hands and only when he deeply bowed did Edelgard fix her posture and stared back at him again. There was no apparent anger or even reaction at all to her outburst. Just Hubert, loyal, formal Hubert, bowing down to his Emperor.

“Thank you for offering me your time, my lady,” he said, his tone tremoring with what she didn’t want to believe to be a laugh. “If I may, perhaps the answer to your problems may be among the paperwork you’ve been neglecting.”

Her face twisted in a dour scowl, but a flare of warmth spread inside her chest at the quip.

“I will be sure to look into it,” she answered, rolling her eyes.

Sparing her one final smirk, Hubert retreated, sparing her one last long look, as if guaranteeing she was still there, before his lips curled up as he left, leaving her alone in the silent room. Outside, the sunset cast shadows on her desk. With a heavy heart, she could do nothing but sigh and start lighting up her candles for another long night.

* * *

The dungeons had a purpose, and that was all that stopped Edelgard from burning the whole place down.

Curse Hubert for going down there in the first place.

As her heels clicked on the stairs, a wave of nausea hit her, her stomach threatening her with rebellion unless she turned around and went back the way she came. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the scurry of rats’ paws and the chatter of their teeth. Or was it her imagination? She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to maintain her composure. Curse Hubert. Curse him for making her go down the clammy stairs, down to the horrible underground.

Edelgard furrowed her eyebrows, eyes tracking the light of reason fire illuminating the hallway. Thales was dead. Dead by her hand. There was nothing down there. Nothing to harm her. The words spiraled inside her head, but, instead of soothing her, they just made her lock her jaw, a ferocious hound refusing to let go of prey no matter how much it struggled. Dwelling within, her heart hammered inside her chest.

Hubert was down there, she knew, she only had to cross those damned corridors quickly and find him.

With every step she took, Edelgard ignored the gazes of the prisoners, and the guards, the apprehension and awe. Nevertheless, she could imagine the surprise glimmering in their eyes, watching their Flame Emperor storm down to the underground like an unblemished eagle eating a carcass.

Her eyes darted back and forth, before finding a lithe figure, the appendages on his back gaining noticeable form despite the darkness surrounding them. A hooded shadow was kneeling before him, inside a cell, not quite hidden. She knew that Hubert knew that she was there, couldn't possibly mistake her footsteps. Even so, she cleared her throat, her face a blank mask. He didn’t turn around, however.

“Your Majesty,” he muttered. and Sheshe had to make an effort to hear it before he raised his voice, cleaning his bare hands on a nearby cloth. The cloth did a poor job, however, for she could still see large black blotches of stains even from a distance. “It’s quite unexpected to see you here.”

She crossed her arms as she looked at her eyes tracked on the quiet prisoner, his labored breathing indicating that Hubert already finished with him. The humidity was suffocating, making the air heavy with the smell of mold that the reason fire couldn’t dispel. It made her want to pace around if only to make her feel less trapped among the chains and cells.

“It’s late, Hubert, and I asked for you to report to me after your duties. I‘ve been waiting for you, in fact. Are you not finished?”

The prisoner let out a raucous laugh, more like the sound of choking on a fish bone. Hubert let out a sound too similar to a growl before turning around. His gaunt face was even darker than in broad daylight, truly a man made for melting into the shadows. Were it anyone else, his face would seem emotionless, perhaps even angry, but even then Edelgard could see the wariness in his eyes. The very thought annoyed her. Why? Were they not lifelong companions? As such, he would know that such nervousness was unfounded or, at least, that her behavior was nothing to be dreaded. Especially him, who had more than once joked about being tried for his many crimes, knowing her to be too soft of heart to carry on with such punishment.

“Many would consider this to be among my duties, Your Majesty,” he replied and the hint of cheekiness soothed her nerves, if only for a moment. With a curt bow, Hubert continued, "You shouldn't have bothered with it. I'm already done here."

She arched an eyebrow, eyes darting from the prisoner and back to Hubert.

"I take it that you at least got some information out of all of this at least.”

"Unfortunately, I would say this fiend is either a fool for clinging on to his information despite his sore defeat or he truly knows nothing." He didn't even hesitate, showing that he probably had no business anymore with the dark mage. A dead man who didn't know they were dead.

Even worse, he didn't even have the courtesy to know that the dead shouldn't speak.

"How shortsighted of you. If you think we are done, you are sorely mistaken."

Hubert kicked him in the stomach. The weakened man doubled over, hacking coughs taking over his lungs, and only then Edelgard noticed the heavy handcuffs binding his wrists together. Wings ruffled as his expression twisted in a scowl, his sharp eyes narrowed at the man’s arrogance.

“Surely, if your kind still has the power, one must wonder why they won’t come save you from the fangs of the Emperor’s hound,” he said slowly, voice dragging to emphasize every biting remark. Only then, his face turned back to her as he bowed, continuing without even raising his head, “My apologies for this. This repugnant worm will be disposed of shortly.”

Edelgard merely looked at the Agarthan, a dull ache deep inside her chest, and she watched Hubert tug the restraints, forcing the man up. She could only assume it was the foul magic the Agarthans used to pass as humans, but the man before her had a surprisingly common face. If she were to avert her gaze, maybe she would forget what he looked like. If nothing else, that probably just made him more dangerous.

Hubert yanked the chains, forcing him to come along, but Edelgard gestured with her hand for him to stop. The Agarthan too seemed surprised by the turn of events, arching an eyebrow at her as the corner of his mouth tugged up. The man was shorter than Hubert, but she still had to crane her neck up to stare him in the eyes.

“If it is as you claim and your kind is not finished yet, then there’s certainly something you must know that we don’t,” she deduced, prodding the points he offered her. “If you were to tell us, perhaps you could be granted mercy.”

The Slither didn’t bother hiding his scorn, turning his face to the side to spit on the ground with a loud sound. Hubert didn’t hide his displeasure, his throat rumbling with a sound all too similar to a growl.

“My lady, you don’t need to listen to this madness.”

Hubert tugged the prisoner along, perhaps expecting her to follow. The dungeon’s walls seemed to close on themselves, narrowing her sight to her Minister’s dark wingtips.

“We will rise again,” the mocking voice said, cut off by a gasp.

Edelgard closed her eyes and followed the stairs back up to wait for Hubert back in the light.

* * *

  
“It has been a long time since you last called me.”

Her body was tense, the muscles of her shoulders stiff, her back achy. A common event, especially after a long day. Common, all too common. Edelgard drew her eyes over his form lazily. Two days since her last blunder with him in the dungeons, so much had changed. He was still wearing his uniform despite the late hour, not that it was any surprise, she supposed. Even when there was nothing to hide, he was rarely seen without his coat, except for these dark nights with her. Now, he must’ve been even wearing his cape to do paperwork.

At least, being in her chambers meant that it was safe and quiet enough that he was already taking off the cape, baring his large wings. They grew even more this time, a thick array of ebony feathers contrasting with marble skin. Under the flickering candlelight, he appeared monochrome, a vile beast of shadows and moonlight, ready to defile her sacred bed. Her lips curled in a smirk. Oh, the horror.

It took her a moment to notice that he was still waiting for her response.

"Truly, it has been a while. I find it quite regrettable that I didn't manage to call you sooner."

She propped herself up on her elbows, letting the covers slide down to her waist. Wearing only a shift, the night wind made her shiver, but the look in his eyes warmed her from head to toe.

"Indeed," he murmured, answering to nothing in particular, his eyes wandering. "If you will allow me, I hope you pardon my current shortcomings."

Deft fingers started from the chest, undoing the clasps of his coat, wriggling the large wings out rather awkwardly. Despite the efforts of a discrete, frightened Imperial Tailor, it was hard to deny that the wings made his life more difficult in more than one way. The shirt followed the coat, both falling to the ground with a muted rustle.

She cupped his cheek when he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers as he shuffled into the bed with her.

It was more awkward than usual. He broke the kiss with a grimace to adjust the position of his legs. The wings clearly stopped any possibility of him laying on his back, so she helped him get under the covers while laying on his side. Once he was tucked with her, she hooked an arm around his neck, feeling the rub of feathers and scales against her arms she kissed him again. She drew her palm down his spine until the area where the wing joined his back, caressed the soft patch of skin of the juncture.

The kiss was slow, almost apologetic. Dragging. She didn’t count the minutes they spent only kissing aimlessly, nor how long it took before Hubert groaned impatiently, shifting to kiss along her jaw. His hands, that up until then had behaved on her shoulders, ghosted along her sides. Asking a question, she noticed.

“I merely wish for your presence tonight, Hubert,” she mumbled, her thumbs massaging his temples. “We’ve been… quite distant.”

Quite the understatement as well. Since they reached the tail end of the war on Those Who Slither In The Dark, they both became so busy that it was hard to find time for them to be alone together, let alone spend nights in intimacy. Her heart clenched as she petted his dark curls, feeling the softness of his hair. She had no such excuse for the three weeks that followed—busy as they might have been, she should have found time for him. Perhaps she would have known it sooner then.

Hubert nodded in response, mumbling an agreement against her neck. He stayed there, behaving, simply breathing in. When her hands wandered, she found herself caressing a pair of hard stumps on his forehead, near his hairline. An awkward shift of her head revealed that they were small sprouts of horns, pale like bone. The very sight made her huff a laugh, warmth spreading inside her chest. They were quite cute. Her thumbs explored down, finding herself surprised when she caressed the pointed tip of an ear. Her curious exploration must’ve attracted his attention, since he pulled back, arching an eyebrow.

“Apologies for my new traits, my lady. I must now truly look like the devil the pamphlets make me out to be.”

Edelgard huffed in response, a hint of mirth in her words despite his gloomy look.

“Nonsense. If nothing else, I find it rather charming: the devil whispering dirty secrets in the Emperor’s ear.”

He chuckled but there was little humor in his arched eyebrows and quirked lips. His hands drew up again, revealing claws and black-tipped fingers, blotches of purplish skin trailing down his arm. The same way, the covers did little to hide the sprouting feathers on his ribs and in the middle of his chest, trailing down toward the waistband of his trousers.

“My lady,” he said, pulling back her attention. “It’s very clear that my transformation is accelerating and both Linhardt and Lysithea are at a loss.”

Her chest constricted her lungs, making it hard to even take a deep breath as she huddled closer. It was hardly a conscious decision, more similar to an attempt at getting comfort out of him, and he didn’t disappoint, wrapping his arms around her. The prickle of his claws as he tightened the embrace was new, but not unwelcome. Despite the tremulous moment, Edelgard’s voice hid steel beneath the surface.

“We will find a way. I will.”

He laughed, not a chuckle, but a genuine laugh, even if hiding some sadness that she could recognize but couldn’t understand the true reason.

“Please, I know you will. You’ve bent false gods and true devils alike,” he murmured against her hair and his voice was enough to soothe her fears. That was, until he held her tighter, exhaling heavily. Something thick and feathery curled on her thigh and it took her a moment to notice it was his tail. “Still, I must warn you that, if this continues, it would be for the best to send me off away from Enbarr.”

Her heart skipped a beat and a cold feeling ran up her spine. She scrambled off his embrace, narrowing her eyes at him. The wings at his back twitched at her strange behavior but he said nothing, giving her space to lash out her indignation.

“It’s just like you to plan for every situation, but I cannot agree to those terms, Hubert. You promised that you would stay by my side until the end and I will hold you accountable for it.”

The resolution in her voice was not purely a mask, but it certainly hid cold apprehension lying underneath. Hubert must’ve known it, for he kept his silence, merely adjusting the space between him and the mattress for her to crawl back near him again. The very sight made annoyance flared within her. Avoiding the subject? In the end, as the tiredness of her body won over her stubbornness, she sighed, averting her eyes. No matter. No need to headbutt each other, not right there.

Her hand reached for his shoulder, tracing feathers and scales.

“Also,” she mumbled, amused at her own dilemma, “Is this the kind of subject to be brought up in a lady’s bed?”

He arched an eyebrow, feigning indignation before letting out a short life.

“Of course not. Shall we talk of more fitting topics, such as battle strategy?”

She hit him on his chest, but couldn’t hold back her laughter as he embraced her and kissed her temple, pulling her close and pressing their bodies together.

The morning came too early for Edelgard and, as she watched Hubert’s softly breathe, she concocted an idea that filled her with dread, but that she couldn’t avoid. As the sunlight slipped through the curtains, coloring pale skin and dark scales a faint orange hue, Edelgard found herself determined to pull this through. For him, to compensate for all he already did to her.

* * *

“I will not back off. Is that clear?”

“Edelgard,” he growled, his voice echoing above the click of her heels as she walked down the hallway. She knew he could keep up easily, but even then he stayed one step behind. His tone had a clear note of disapproval—but that was all he had.

“I’ve already sent a message to stop searching down there. If there is anywhere that might offer us an answer, it's down there.”

“You don’t need to go for my sake.”

The door to Linhardt’s office is right before her, but she still halted, turning on her heels to shoot Hubert a glare. The horns sprouting from his forehead were still little more than barely noticeable white stubs, but they managed to frame his furrowed brow perfectly.

“True, but I will go either way.”

Hubert's jaw clenched, taken by surprise, but he didn't stop her as she opened the door, revealing a sleeping Linhardt, sprawled on his table. Bah! Not surprising, but that didn't make it less infuriating. Edelgard's heels clicked as she took two steps, but no more.

"Despite the fact that I can't blame you for wanting, it would be a waste of time to wake him up," a sharp voice said and Edelgard's head snapped in its direction. As if the white hair wasn't a dead giveaway, the dainty scowl while staring at her sleeping partner confirmed it was no other than Lysithea. "He already stayed up late for Hubert's case: no way he is doing anything useful today."

Lysithea shook her head, but her pinkish eyes were focused on Edelgard, who sustained back her gaze. Her posture was as steely as ever despite the soft exterior, the fragile stature. Once her attention wandered back to Hubert, however, all that pomp shattered into ash.

"Hang on," Lysithea mumbled and Edelgard stepped out of the way to grant her access to Hubert, whose furrowed brows indicated that he was less than pleased once she grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him.

Edelgard's heart clenched as Hubert stretched his wings. The feathery tips could almost go from wall to wall when fully extended, giving Lysithea much to touch and explore as she shamelessly handled the joints and junctures. It made her heart clench to see him poked and prodded like that, but they had no choice.

"This is quite impressive," she remarks, bending over to go under the wing and inspect his back. Hubert fumbled with his cape, letting it fall to the ground to expose the cuts he made on his shirt in order to fit the wings. "Was there any bleeding?"

He shook his head. Lysithea continued listing any potential side-effects, and, despite moments of questions and hesitance, she was met with negative answer after negative answer, and Edelgard could do nothing but look as her stomach churned with dread. The younger girl measured his wingspan, took off his shirt to watch the progress of feathers and scales, plucked off a few samples, labeling them carefully, even going as far as examining his black hands.

By the end, Lysithea just stepped back, astonishment written all over her pensive expression.

"Perhaps," she started, a note of hope coloring her words. However, it was soon smothered, her bravado deflating as she glanced at Linhardt's still sleeping form. "Sounds like all his late night research won't pay off."

Only then did Edelgard allow herself to interrupt as Hubert politely drew back his wings.

"Lysithea, perhaps there is something we can do that may aid the process," she prompted, staring at Hubert's face while he kept his gaze straight ahead. "As we know, it all happened during the raid of Shambhala. When we were both alone with Thales, there was a certain incident there. I believe we may find a clue there.”

Despite the determined look, Lysithea’s clenched fists belies her nervousness. Not that Edelgard could blame her. Not when her heart races faster, not when her blood runs closer to skin at the mere thought of descending down the belly of the beast again. For a moment, all of her attention was focused on the other girl, stepping closer, going past Hubert to intervene. However, her efforts were soon thwarted.

“If you so wish, you may stay,” Hubert said, flexing inky hands on his side. Despite her furrowed brows and a glare that he surely couldn’t ignore, he ignored Edelgard and only spared one reproaching gaze at Linhardt’s sleeping form before stepping closer to Lysithea and tilting his head to the side, oddly amenable. The younger girl merely shook her head, as if she hadn’t heard it quite right.

“Of course, if you so wish, you may stay,” he repeated himself, way too agreeable. Edelgard arched an eyebrow at that, already predicting the argument to follow. “Surely Linhardt would go in your stead in order to spare you the trouble.”

Edelgard gritted her teeth, fury rising to her throat. She spared a glance at the man of the hour, who somehow was still asleep despite the conversation and the papers sticking to his nose. Lysithea seemed torn in the same way, awkwardly standing between her two superiors and a wall, she raised her hands in defense, but Edelgard couldn’t bite back her remarks anymore.

“Surely, that’s true. You have no obligation to accompany us and I have no right to sway you either way,” she started, staring straight into Lysithea’s confused eyes. “But I can't deny that two minds would work better than one for this situation, since we are racing against the  
Edelgard couldn't help but growl out the last word, much to her own frustration. What was she doing? Lashing out? Foolish, to say the least. Instead of continuing, she turned her head to face Hubert once again, only to find that he was already staring at her. The sprouting horns made him seem all more silly in her eyes, for they framed the bangs covering his eyes well, too well, almost like a caricature she would find in a third rate pamphlet, made even worse by his subdued scowl, not quite challenging her directly but still resisting.

“Ugh,” Lysithea grunted, bringing their shared attention back to her. “I’d already made my decision. Also, I think it rather silly for you two to be at each other’s throats for that.” Ignoring as both the Minister and the Emperor stepped back at that, the younger girl turned to Linhardt, who had not even stirred since the start of the conversation. “Linhardt.”

She shook his shoulder and Edelgard pressed her lips together, her blood running to her cheeks in embarrassment. One of Hubert’s wings hit her shoulder, a gesture that could be nothing but accidental if not for the way he cleared his throat after, retreating immediately. Despite the clear tension building in the room, Linhardt only stirred, looking up at Lysithea as if she had just disturbed a hibernating bear. He let out an intelligible grumble, to which she merely sighed.

“We are going back to Shambhala. Pack your things,” Lysithea said.

Edelgard couldn’t keep the victorious smirk off her face. Linhardt merely raised his head enough to get one look at Hubert’s scowl before dropping on the table again.

* * *

Hrym was still just as desolated.

House Hrym, Arundel, herself. No matter who ruled over them, not when the lands were still just as infertile as always, not when the mountains were still so frigid. Edelgard grunted, tugging her horse's reins. More problems for her to solve.

Shambhala was down underground, but the imperial forces were still set up on the outside of the cave that led downwards. Edelgard had received a report explaining in long, loopy writing that the reasoning was the underground's odd temperature, its winding labyrinths and the lack of space for a whole camp.

She knew better than to believe it. Not when she knew firsthand how ennerving the underground was, how it pushed men towards the edge.

She pressed her lips together, glancing over her shoulder. Hubert was huddled on his cloak, pointedly staring at his black horse's mane for the last few hours. She could only guess it was his fear of heights influencing him and the thought of slowing down and comforting him passed by her mind, quickly smothered. Surely, her presence would just draw attention to him, something that they had to evade at all costs.

A split second before she turned around to face the road again, Hubert shifted and she caught a glimpse of inky hands trembling and clutching at his cloak. She squinted her eyes. Too late? No. It couldn't be. She would find a way.

Later, as she accommodated in her tent, a soft rustle of steps echoed in the silence. It was night already, so the shadows cast by the lone candles did little to reveal the intruder, but the voice betrayed the culprit.

“Edelgard?” High-pitched, but affirmative and true. She didn’t need to do much guessing. Edelgard turned away from the trunk she was adjusting with her spare clothing, the little she had brought with her in such short notice, and found herself staring back at Lysithea’s sharp pink eyes as the younger girl lingered on the outside of the tent, head poking in.

Unlike her usual self, full of hastiness and bravado, the mage wore a sheepish look, rather timid, which was enough to make some suspicion flare inside Edelgard’s heart. Regardless, she merely gestured for the younger woman to enter, to make herself comfortable. Taking it as answer, she nodded, taking a seat on one of the nearby chairs, and her posture was tense, but not like a rabbit, skittish and tremulous. No, it was closer to one of the dangerous mooses they found up north: prey, yes, but ready to fight back.

“So, Lysithea, any reason for the late-night visit? I was already getting my things ready for sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day after all.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered, nodding, Her hands folded and unfolded on her lap as if fumbling with an imaginary toy. “It’s just…”

As Lysithea trailed off, staring at her own lap, her face twisted in annoyance, much to Edelgard’s surprise. As she took a step closer, Edelgard found herself placing a hand on a small shoulder, squeezing it for some measure of comfort. Perhaps, the trip back wasn’t such a good idea for her after all. She had decided it so suddenly and, unlike Edelgard, her reasons surely weren’t as dire.

“Lysithea,” she called, gently shaking her shoulder to coax her to look up. “If you wish to go back, I won’t blame you. If not for these problems, I surely would never step on this cursed ground again.”

With a sigh, Lysithea crossed and uncrossed her legs and the silence loomed for a moment before she spoke up, “It’s not that. I’m not feeling good here, but—Ugh. I’m not good with these subjects but someone needs to ask this.”

Despite the apparent resolution, Lysithea merely gestured for Edelgard to get a chair for herself, straightening her posture again. What was she planning? If not to come back to Enbarr then perhaps to speak of Shambhala or about Hubert, but if so, why the nervousness? The questions wouldn’t answer themselves, however. The noise outside was fading out if not for the shuffle of the night guards, the torches casting shadows despite the thick material of the tent. With few candles, the fire flickered and reflected in pink eyes as Edelgard placed a chair in front of her, taking a seat.

Lysithea took in a deep breath and took one of Edelgard’s hands in both of hers, mustering boldness to speak up.

“We’ve been a little worried about Hubert.”

Edelgard raised an elegant eyebrow. Well. Among the many options of potential tense subjects, that wasn't where she expected this conversation to go. After a moment of surprise, her heart clenched inside her chest. She squeezed Lysithea’s hands back, steeling herself for the inevitable.

“Has it taken a turn for the worse?”

“Well, the process has accelerated dramatically already. But that’s not the point. I spoke to him already, he should appear soon, but I wanted to talk with you first.”

Edelgard glanced down to their joined hands, then back at the younger woman, brushing a thumb on her knuckles. She wasn’t sure who was more nervous at this point. Nevertheless, it couldn’t truly be the other woman, because Lysithea sustained her steely gaze, pressing her lips together asif waiting for an answer.

“Very well. I’m all ears.”

“We’ve asked Hubert a million times but the stubborn mule refuses to answer so I came directly to the source: what happened to him down there?”

Edelgard’s mind snapped at her. She straightened her back. Her eyes roamed over Lysithea’s expression. Just as she expected, the soft lines of the younger woman’s expression were scrunched in tension, but there was a sharp, wiry resolution underneath.

“Well,” she answered, crossing her legs. “As you may know, I was the one who killed Thales. I had to chase him deep down in Shambhala, so Hubert followed. During the ensuing battle, Hubert ended up caught in the crossfire and hit some sort of… green liquid. From the reports, there was nothing wrong with him afterwards, but it’s clear that this is not the case anymore.”

Lysithea listened to it all, focused on Edelgard’s every small fidget and movement. When she was done, silence reigned for a few moments before her eyebrows furrowed, Edelgard could even see as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“I...” she trailed off, exhaled, and found her strength again. “I don’t think that’s all.”

Edelgard raised an eyebrow, before a wary feeling reared its head inside of her again.

“Hm. I was there. Are you trying to tell me that I don’t know what I saw?”

Lysithea let go of Edelgard’s hands, raising them in a placatory gesture. The lack of contact was surprising for the Emperor, but she soon recomposed, observing as the other woman scrambled for words.

“Ugh, no! Just, I mean,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He told us that much, but whenever we press him for details, he won’t budge. There must be something we’re missing. Something that, you know, could help.”

Edelgard tilted her head to the side. So Hubert refused to say anything? That was just like him, hiding facts to better suit his objectives. Furrowing her brow, Edelgard scratched the back of her head. Sure, he could do it, but what could possibly be his objectives? It couldn’t be more urgent than his transformation. Blinking slowly, she nodded at last, her stare wandering to the shadows outside her tent, the fire of the candles flickering and casting shadows on her few belongings.

“If so, then I will tell as much as I know.” Lysithea’s vigorous nodding drew a low laugh out of her, but Edelgard’s heart was still clenched in her chest as she continued. “During the battle, I saw Thales going for the back and, of course, I followed. There was no way I was letting him escape.”

Edelgard told her every detail of the chase and the battle, a bitter taste flooding her mouth for every mindless decision. If nothing else, she got him in the end. That was all she wanted. Lysithea accompanied her stream of thought, going down back to the belly of the beast with her. Perhaps she had imagined that telling all of it would ease the weight inside her chest, but the pressure remained, almost making it hard to breathe. With an exhale, Edelgard’s eyes turned back to Lysithea.

“And then we got back to the battle. That was all.”

“Thank you, Edelgard,” she muttered in response, but nothing about her expression spelled that it was all she had to say. It didn’t take long for her words to burst out of her, however. “But that was so reckless of you! What were you doing rushing in like that, did you want to get yourself killed?”

Lysithea always had a sharp tongue and Edelgard was used to it, yet, this time, the quip cut deep. Her stance was unmoving, her mouth twisted in a grim scowl.

“You must understand my reasoning, Lysithea. I was merely guaranteeing that he wouldn’t escape.”

“Shambhala is far down the underground, not even him could warp from down there. Seriously, that sounds like an excuse.”

“Can you guarantee me this? Could you have come to me and cursed me into clarity as Thales attacked and did as he wished?”

The chair trembled as Lysithea got up suddenly, her brows furrowed and lips pursed, but Edelgard couldn’t focus on her. Her thoughts were darting back and forth, diffuse and aimless, yet, most of all, the ache in her chest didn’t subside.

As Lysithea said nothing, strangely neither answering her question nor retreating, Edelgard gestured back to the chair, forcing herself to take a deep breath before continuing, “This discussion is pointless, especially because you, out of everyone, must understand how I feel. Come on, Hubert must be coming already.”

Lysithea’s eyes darted from Edelgard’s hand to the chair, but she merely shook her head, taking a step back.

“I know,” she huffed, a hint of hurt slipping through the cracks. “Of course I do, but, as I’ve told you before, all I want is a world where people like you and me aren’t victimized and my promise of doing whatever I could to help this come to pass never wavered.

“When the raid of Shambhala ended, I was conflicted, because I too wanted to have been there to see him fall. However, now I see that it was foolish of me, Edelgard. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean it’s done and you shouldn’t have risked it all for that.”

Edelgard’s voice hardened and her body felt fever-hot, but her expression was unchanged.

“A risk had to be taken.”

Lysithea’s dainty face twisted, her eyes burning bright with righteous fury.

“Well, not when that risk was so poorly calculated, why did you even rush in when Hubert was already taking care—”

“My lady?”

A rustle of the tent and the sound of talons scraping on the ground took them both from the discussion, Lysithea scrambling back to face the culprit.

Hubert’s expression was calm, a slight smirk on his face, his tail flicking, feathers brushing the ground. Edelgard narrowed her eyes, leaning back on the chair to catch her breath and let her heart calm down. Lysithea, however, seemed to be only more nervous.

“Hubert,” Lysithea said, as if the sole apparition of the minister was like the ghosts that she so much feared. “I think I’ve already got the information I needed. Sorry for the trouble.”

Lysithea took two steps back, her eyes darting back to the ground. And, as soon as it came, Edelgard’s annoyance deflated as she blinked slowly, waving it off.

“It’s alright. You should get some rest, tomorrow we will have another long day before us. Perhaps, once we are done, we could have some cake as well.”

Lysithea nodded, but still wouldn’t look Edelgard in the eyes as she left. Well. No matter. She had someone else to give attention to now. Her gaze drew back to Hubert, who had contented with flicking his tail around while keeping a calm expression.

“I didn’t think Lysithea would truly be as bold as to speak to you directly like that. Especially being as rude as she was. Truly, I must scold her for her disrespect one of these days.”

Edelgard grunted, knowing too well that Hubert didn’t mean what he said.  
her mind wandered in bitterness,  
Instead of wallowing in her thoughts, Edelgard shook her head, adjusting her position on the chair.

“Disrespectful or not, she brought up a good point, Hubert. Why do you still hide what happened in that room? I see no reason for evasiveness.”

Hubert hesitated, tilting his head to the side. It made for a comic sight, this devilish man with bone-white curved horns and black wings of ill omen, staring at her like a lost puppy. Or, perhaps, thinking like one, because it took him a few seconds for him to answer.

“It was nothing of consequence, so I didn’t find it necessary to share.”

Edelgard arched an eyebrow as she got up from her chair, walking up to him. Gesturing to the wings at his back that he didn’t bother to hide once he was already inside, she arched an eyebrow, staring back at his bright green eyes.

“Well, do you deem any of this ‘nothing of consequence’?”

He answered her with a chuckle, but she heard an odd sound of talons tapping the ground.

“Of course not, my lady, especially if it bothers you so much.” Oh, so very Hubert, to brush these problems off. It never made her laugh, considering the implications that he cared more about her opinion than his own health, and that didn’t change that day. Her face harshened, but it lasted only a moment before a twinge of hurt slipped in her voice.

“Then tell me what you hide, so I can decide if it’s truly irrelevant or not.”

He looked at her—truly did, green eyes sharp like jewels—and, for a moment, she thought he was going to excuse himself and take his leave, turn on his heels and go. However, he merely chuckled, a droll sound low on his throat.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, nodding curtly. “Up until the last room down the hallway, our perspectives were much the same, I suppose. Once I entered, I found Thales too concentrated in one of the metal boxes at the end of the corridor, all I could see was that he appeared to be writing something in it and, when he ended, the green liquid started flowing down towards the center. At that point, you entered.

“As you came in, I planned on staying hidden at first so we could at least maintain an element of surprise. Of course, when he tried to attack you, I couldn’t stay put. I managed to get a good hit on him, but he retaliated soon after. You got caught in the attack due to the proximity, unfortunately, but it had been aimed towards me.”

He gestured with his arms, making it clear that he had no more to hide as he shook his head.

“See? Irrelevant.”

Edelgard swallowed hard. When put that way, it was hard to deny that she had been too quick to act, but what was she supposed to do? Let him go? The very thought made her stomach churn with dread, a full-body shiver taking over her. No, never. The blurry image of her uncle burned in her memory, corrupted with the sallow face of Thales. Never again.

“I suppose it doesn’t seem to be that much different from my own account,” she agreed, trying to recompose herself by straightening her back and staring back at him. She cupped his cheek, out of instinct, to feel his warmth and guarantee that he was really there before her. “I still think you should have told them in the first place.”

“Perhaps,” he acquiesced, wary. “But, in the end, I suppose it wouldn’t make much a difference.”

She nodded in response, biting her bottom lip, caressing along a sharp cheekbone with a thumb. They spent a few seconds like this, his hands hovering in the air between them both, halfway through an embrace, halfway through pulling back. Her eyes drew lower towards his hands. Gloves wouldn’t work easily to conceal the darkness of it all, going long past his wrists, his fingers looking like they had been dipped in ink. As he brushed his knuckles up and down her arms, she knew his unspoken question, filled with hesitancy and doubt.

She didn’t answer him with words. She tugged him by his collar, staring into his eyes as she guided them backwards. Very well then. In her heart, a flame flared and caught, a desire to burn down all of Shambhala, all of the Empire, just so she could forget for one night. She drew her palms along his chest before helping him out of his shirt, revealing lean muscle, pale skin, made out of marble, peppered by feathers down the line that bisected his body.

It stole her breath away, so see how gorgeous it looked on him.

He stared back at her, stupefied, his chest heaving with breath. With his eyes so wide, it would have made her laugh, if the back of her knees hadn’t hit the edge of the bed, prompting to tug him down and kiss him as she laid back, pinned under his body.

His mouth tasted of coffee.

That much hadn't changed, she thought with a smile against his lips. Instead of lingering on the thought, she deepened the kiss, letting out a whimper of surprise as her tongue brushed a sharp fang. The sensation wasn't unpleasant, however. If nothing else, it made her yearn for more as Hubert allowed his body to relax and the feeling of his weight made their campaign bed creak.

Hubert pulled out for a moment, worry filling his green eyes, the tip of his pointy ears twitching.

"Your Majesty–"

"Don't," she hissed back, her hands cupping his cheeks. "Don't think. You're thinking too much."

His inky hands shifted, his fingers tightened around her arms as he sustained himself on his elbows. His feathery wings tensed, extending as if to make him look bigger, covering her vision.

"I think you're thinking too little, my lady," he prompted, but didn't move, his body still pinning her down. His tail was moving restlessly, thumping on the ground with its feathery tip.

"Then you should stop thinking that," she bit back, promptly punctuating her point with a fierce kiss, one hand grabbing at one of the horns on his head and tugging him down.  
The crash of lips was imprecise, but Edelgard couldn't care less, feeling his tongue brush against hers, the new, smoother texture sending a shiver up her spine. She let out a groan of surprise and Hubert seemed to take it as incentive, for his claws tightened their grip, prickling her skin with a hint of danger and thrill that made her heartbeat accelerate.

Her hands wandered, feeling all of him that she could. She buried her fingers in his hair, feeling the softness of his curls to contrast with the other hand clutching at his back, feeling the ridges of scales down his spine. The more her hands wandered, the bolder he became, biting her bottom lip, letting her feel the prickle of his dangerous fangs. She let out a groan, he answered by pulling back to breathe.

His cheeks were tinged pink and his lips parted with shallow quick breaths. Before she could complain about his pause, Hubert placed pecks on her lips, butterfly kisses trailing down the line of her jaw, settling on her neck. When he sucked eagerly at her pulse point, Edelgard closed her eyes, pulling him closer, impossibly closer.

The very thought of the purple bruise he would give her made heat sear through her veins.

She groaned, something that at first felt like his name, but ended incoherently as he trailed down, licking at her collarbone, his tongue lizard-like and quick. His tail was now proud and up, twirling lazily in the air. Something firm nudged her thigh, but her eyes quickly darted up as Hubert rose, his wings extending to frame his broad shoulders. From that angle, as he stayed between her parted legs, the unhinged look in his eyes, his furrowed brow framing the sharp angles of his face, his horns going past the top of his head, all of it made her heart skip a beat.

Her chest heaved with breath, but she found herself wordless, unable to summarize her thoughts into a coherent sentence. His eyes squinted, looking down at her with the same intensity he would give a war map, but tinged with some unknown emotion. Before she could ask anything, his talons gripped the central line of her shift and ripped it apart.

The loud noise of ripping fabric echoed into the night. It bared her breasts to the cold air, her nipples stiffening after little more than a moment. He stayed still, tense, his back straightening and his wings folding as he seemed to find clarity for a moment. That ember of desire was quickly smothered.

He hissed, averting his eyes and that much was enough to make her heart clench inside her chest.

"Hubert–"

"My lady," he cut her off, scrambling backwards until they weren't touching anymore. "We shouldn't. Not here, not like this–"

"If not here and not like this, then when?" She growled, propping herself up on her elbows. "Let them hear it all, if that's what you fear. I care not anymore, unless you’re ashamed of me."

"Never," he hissed back, the words snakelike, deep in his throat. His feathers ruffled, betraying his distress. "It's you who must feel shame, my lady. I've ruined this–"

She cupped his cheek with her hands, forcing him to face her. Anger stewed inside her heart to a boiling point, spilling uselessly into her clenched jaw, her tense muscles. About as pointless was his wide-eyed stare, his foolish, self-deprecating–

He averted his eyes, pulling back from her touch. It felt like thunder roaring in her ears.

"Are you blind as well as daft? No matter what, we will get there and we will find a way. Until then, please, do not refuse me because of your foolish reticence."

"My reticence is not unfounded," he snapped back, his voice filled with venom and anger in a way she never heard directed at her before. "Look at what I just did: tear your clothes off like a beast. I will not take this risk."

He shuffled back, his feathered legs landing him safely back on the ground as his tail whipped, restless. Instead of disheartening her, the change only made her anger worse. A beast! If he was a beast, then what word could fit her?

Wrath rose to a peak as Hubert shuffled for his shirt, still dropped near the bed. It choked her, constricting her throat. For a moment, no words came out and, as quickly as it came, it faded, leaving her with an empty chest. She watched as he struggled with his shirt for a moment, still unused to the massive wings.

Wings, as black as the night, soft feathers ruffling and moving. Edelgard gulped hard and looked down at her ruined clothes, frustration settling in her chest, but the anger had left her drained, dull.

"Hubert," she murmured, taking off her ruined clothes, never having felt so naked. She thought about saying more, but the words were tangled in the hollow of her throat.

Hubert, however, knew her too well. Gleaming eyes darted back to her, his brows furrowed in a pained expression. She should let him go. He was right, in a way. Despite that warning from her common sense, Edelgard got up, striding towards him. He didn't pull back when she approached, nor did he hesitate to lean into her touch when she cupped his jaw.

"I…" she trailed off, unable to find words. It frustrated her, but the feeling simply bled into resignation. "I understand if you don't want to."

"Do not misinterpret me," he replied softly, covering her hand with his, large and black as ink, careful with his claws as he squeezed. "I long for it, perhaps even more than you imagine. Yet, we cannot afford to indulge in it. Not like this."

"Then when?" she repeated herself, impatience rearing its ugly head again. She struggled against it for a moment, taking a second to finally find words, "If it is your form that repulses you, please, don't feel forced for my sake, just don't claim that I'm uncomfortable with it when I am everything but."

To prove her point, Edelgard slipped her hand from underneath his, sliding it down to his neck, where feathers mingled with scales and skin. He shivered in response, the fine hairs that remained raising on its ends. When he didn’t pull back, it emboldened her, prompting her to keep going down, tracing the sharp indented curve of his strong shoulders. Inhaling, he seemed about to protest, a gesture sudden enough to make her stop entirely.

A low noise made his chest rumble, but it wasn’t a displeased sound. His feathers ruffled, his wings stretched and relaxed, his talons made a scraping sound on the ground. Edelgard watched patiently his inscrutable face as she maintained her hand’s position. Not retreating, not advancing. Waiting.

Finally, he let out a sigh, leaning in, giving her clear signs. When their lips met, it began softly, a gentle kiss of hesitance, Her hands squeezed his shoulders as he took the lead, settling his hands on her waist he slowly pushed her backwards, back to the bed. They parted for a moment, but only to sit down again starting from the beginning, soft butterfly kisses as the heat flared up again. When his fingers tightened, she could feel the slight prickle of his claws again, enough to spark up the expectation as the memories of their prior heated encounter rose to the surface.

His fingers ghosted over her sides as he grew bolder and deepened the kiss. His tongue was smoother than expected, longer as well, now that she had time to process the fact. The conclusions didn't have time to form inside her head as she let out a short moan when his hands found her breasts. He pulled back for a short moment, but the pleasure must’ve been clear in her eyes, for he didn’t pull back, rather, he lowered his face to her neck, careful with the horns, nibbling gently as she leaned back on instinct, letting him do as he wished.

He squeezed her breasts ever so gently, far too gentle. The surprisingly chaste action made her let out a little laugh, caressing the soft dark curls as she carded her fingers on his hair.

“Do you fancy yourself so strong as to think that you can break me so easily?”

He raised his head, arching a thin eyebrow.

“I would just prefer to be careful, my lady,” he defended himself, his even tone never showing the reticence that his swirling tail so shamelessly betrayed.

“I will tell you if you do anything that I don’t like,” she answered, not wanting to discourage him. Instead of talking any more, she lowered her hands, placing them over his, properly squeezing her breasts the way she prefered. The feel of his large hands and the tingle of his sharp claws was enough to send heat through her body, pooling in her lower abdomen.

When her hands left his, he had already understood what to do and his dexterity made itself known with every brush and squeeze, enough to make her tilt her head back, trying to adjust herself on a pillow as they were still very close together.

Clearly, Hubert took the task with the same intensity that he would have for any other, but Edelgard could see the red of his ears and the outline in his pants. A whimper slipped from her lips when he lowered his head and licked a taut nipple. His eyes were tracked on her reaction and he must have taken it as positive, for he grew bolder, sucking despite his sharp teeth. The drum of her heart grew louder, deafening her eyes were too concentrated on the image of Hubert fondling her breasts, grazing a gentle fang on her nipple.

He spared her a glance and no more before he went lower, trailing kisses down her flat stomach, leaving blazes of fire in his stead. He knew where he was going, but it still made her heart pump faster to look at him kissing her hip bone, teasing along her thighs.

"Hubert," she breathed out, watching the corner of his lips curl up as he kissed the juncture of thigh and hip.

His eyes darted up and his smirk only widened as he adjusted his position to place his head between her thighs. The smugness, however, faltered when his nostrils flared. The smell of sex hovered in the air, thick and heavy. Hubert licked his lips and she watched his tongue, anxious for what it could do.

"Apologies if my performance is subpar. I'm afraid it is inevitable, considering my handicap." He tapped his fingers on her inner thigh, the sensitiveness making her all the more aware of his sharp claws.

Before she could make a retort, something clever about how he could never disappoint her, it was cut off by a gasp when he pressed warm lips to the side of her knee, trailing down her inner thigh. The kisses increased in fervor, anticipation building in her core. When he reached the juncture of thigh and hip, she was already holding her breath.

The first stroke of his tongue is experimental, the smooth texture brushing her clit and making her see stars.

"You're," he mumbled awkwardly, flicking his tongue one more time, enough to elicit a low moan from her. "You're quite wet."

The obvious observation almost made her laugh, but all she could do was reach for one of the horns on his head, holding on to it to maintain him in place. He chuckled at that, gaining confidence as he focused on her clit, circling.

"Keep going," she hissed between her teeth. He answered by curling his tail on her leg and squeezing, settling a rhythm with his tongue that made her close her eyes, letting out little moans with every sensitive stroke.

She didn't have time to think before he sucked her clit, wringing a breathless noise from her. Her hand let go of his horn, finding the soft hair at the top of his head, carding her fingers through it as the pressure of his tongue never relented, continuing to tease her.

"Hubert," she moaned, his name falling from her lips as he kept going, vigorous and eager. "Faster."

He growled against her, the vibration shooting up her skin as he obeyed, flicking his tongue at her clit, prompting a low mewl from her as she moved her hips against his mouth. Her nerves were so close lighting up, she could feel it as she panted and moaned, he hesitated all for a brief moment, looking up. It made for a perfect erotic scene, to see his green eyes hazy with lust as his head was between her legs.

She tossed her head back, closing her eyes, riding the sensation. When he chuckled, she felt it more than she heard it, enough to make her smile as well.

"Don't stop," she groaned, feeling the trails of fire consuming her skin, tensing her muscles. Hubert obeyed by sucking at her clit again. Her whole body tensed and the moan got stuck in her throat for a second, her body overwhelmed with trails of fire running up her skin, until she cried out, feeling the prickle of his claws as he squeezed her inner thighs.

He pulled back, his eyes almost as hazy as hers as he licked his lips, sending a pulse of arousal through her limp body. The spasms of the orgasm lasted a few moments, in which he rubbed his cheek against her trembling inner thigh, placing soft kisses. His tail uncoiled from her leg, feathery caresses making her shiver. He seemed to notice it, for his gleaming eyes darted up—were they reflecting the light of the candles?—and his thin lips curled up in a smirk.

There was a joke in there. Something about a predator, about a ferocious beast eager to feed on her flesh. Whatever semblance of cleverness she attempted to muster faded like morning dew once Hubert pulled himself up, wings awkwardly stretching as he placed a kiss on her lips, sharing her taste. She could feel his erection poking her thigh, a hint of wet fabric that made it even more unmistakable. It sent a shiver up her spine, her arousal building up again.

“Hubert,” she mumbled against his lips, a question, but, despite the obvious proximity, his attention appears to be everywhere but her words. Her hair, her lips and, apparently, between her legs, for he pressed his hips against her thigh, humping as he let out a ragged groan.

“Hubert,” she repeated with more urgency this time, pressing her hands against his cheeks. As if pulled out of haze, his feathers ruffled and a sound of ripping fabric echoed, which she could only assume to have been his talons scraping at her sheets.

The weak candlelight did little to reveal the chaos going on behind his green eyes, nevertheless she tried to relax him, playing with a lock of dark hair between her fingers.

"Well," she murmured, attempting a seductive tone. “If you so wish, I could—I mean, you could, well, remove your trousers." The seduction fell apart as quickly as it formed inside her mind, her mouth going dry as Hubert's eyebrows shot up and he blushed like she never saw before. "If you so wish," she added, unsure of how to proceed.

"My lady," he started, possibly feeling as awkward as she did. "I hope you are aware of what you're asking of me."

She furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth and then closing. There was no polite way of telling him that she not only had his head between her legs no more than a few minutes prior, but also that she was more than willing to continue.

Before she could express her indignated feelings, Hubert amended, "There have been changes, my lady." He shifted his weight on his arms, his lips pressed together before he managed to find the words, "It may be wise to be certain of what you are dealing with before we continue."

"Well," she started, wary. What could he possibly deem so serious? Surely, there have been many changes, but—

Her line of thought stopped as Hubert pulled back, enough to awkwardly kick the black trousers off his legs. As he took it off, the position made it hard to give a good look, but Hubert soon noticed his mistake and leaned back, kneeling between her parted legs, the rest of his body on full display.

It was quite impressive. And he was right. There had been changes.

Even though it was still hard to get a proper look as he sat on his ankles, it was clear that the feathers had spread down to his thighs, so similar to the legs of the griffins of the legends now, with sharp talons and strong muscles. And, oh, of course, as her eyes drew up, it was impossible to ignore his fully erect cock.

Definitely many changes.

She propped herself up on her elbows, getting a better look. Hard as it was, it glinted with a slight wetness, colored a bright shade of red, flushed from the base to the tapered tip. Curving upwards, it had quite the impressive length, with the base bulged and swollen. Looking closely, she could identify a few ridges along the shaft, not too pronounced but still very much there. In contrast to his eager cock, however, Hubert was as rigid as a table, swallowing hard with expectation. Was he waiting for her to pull back, to give in? She furrowed her brow, but only for a moment before curling her fingers around the base.

He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as his pupils dilated. The swollen area was firm, pulsing, heavy on her palm, and the skin was fleshy and slick, such a sharp contrast to his hard scales. A knot, she recognized, all too aware of its true purpose.

“So,” she started, voice heavy with arousal. “I take that this feels good.”

It wasn’t as much a question as it was an opportunity to let him speak, especially as his eyes darted from her hand to her face and back to her hand.

“My lady,” he started, playing safe. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t wish to.”

“Heh. Pardon if I gave you the impression that I am hesitant. I’m not.”

To punctuate her phrase, she gave his cock an experimental squeeze, relishing in the satisfaction of hearing him breathe deeply, his eyes hazy with lust. When she stroked him, her hand slid easily, coated with his slick. His breathing picked up when she focused on the swollen base, on the soft ridges and bumps.

It brought an easy smile to her lips. Not so long ago, he was so unsure! Now he whimpered with every sensitive caress, so vulnerable that made her want to tease him until the candles burned out, until she couldn't see him anymore in the dark of the night, could only feel the firmness of his cock and the sounds spilling out of his throat.

Pulling back her hand, Edelgard almost smiled as Hubert's expression hardened again, resigned to the lost pleasure. Despite that moment of cruelty, she was quick to reassure him, "Don't worry, I don't plan on stopping."

Hubert merely raised a thin eyebrow in response, but his tail thumped on the ground with a sound suspiciously similar to a huff. No matter.

She leaned back, glanding at her right hand. As she suspected, it was slick, covered in clear fluid. She rubbed two fingers and her thumb together, testing how it felt. When it slid easily, not offering much resistance, Edelgard couldn't repress a smirk once she focused her eyes on his again.

Her hand drew lower, her legs parted wider. She watched as his nostrils flared once she brushed her slick coated fingers on her folds. Teasing, teasing them both. The words in her mind rang loud and clear, but there was no patience left in her. Not like that, not in a tent in the middle of Hrym.

Her clit is far too sensitive from her prior orgasm, but their wetness made it easy to slide two fingers inside of her, drawing them in and out, making it a show for him.

"Hubert," she said and his head snapped her way the second that followed. The predator's gaze, only so masked by his politeness. A mask that didn't quite have the same effect when his cock was flushed red, poking her thigh once he leaned in, moving like a snow leopard chasing prey.

"Please," he murmured, hovering over her. The candlelight flickered and tremuled, reflected on his bone-white horns. "My lady, you must understand that this is very new."

"One more reason for us to try it," she retorted, pulling back her hand in order to stroke his cock. He groaned, but otherwise maintained his position.

"This is so very new," he repeated himself as his tail drew up, feathers caressing her ribs. "I don't know what's happening to me as well."

Edelgard huffed, hooking her legs around his hips to pull him down. His cock remained trapped between their bodies, pressed flat against her lower stomach. Her hands found his shoulders, feeling the tension that his inscrutable expression refused to betray.

"I think I have a clear understanding of what is happening here," she murmured, her blood running to her cheeks. Her voice didn't falter, however, as she continued, "And so do you, isn't it?"

His wings drew back and his tail stilled. He pressed his lips together. A beat passed. The heat of his cock pressed between them never subsided, but the lack of more contact made her restless.

Her nervousness, however, lasted little once Hubert leaned in, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Taken by surprise, Edelgard could only stare up as Hubert sucked in a deep breath. As he did, his feathers ruffled, a low rumble vibrating from his chest.

"Your scent," he started, but hesitated for a moment. His wings extended awkwardly and then flapped once, sending a gust of wind that made the candles flicker and shake. "You have a good scent."

Well. That was not what she expected.

"Thank you?" The questioning inflection was only half-teasing.

Hubert paused for a moment and she felt his eyelashes fluttering against her neck as he blinked. Still, she had no time to theorize about it, for he soon shifted, moving his hands to her waist, adjusting her hips to align with his cock. The tapered tip nudged her folds, sending a shiver of anticipation up her spine.

He took one more deep breath, inhaling her scent, before pulling back to rub his cheek against hers.

"Please, tell me if I hurt you," he murmured before pushing into her, the head of his cock sliding easily inside of her.

The ridges felt nice, entering, rubbing against her as he probed, pulling back before sliding again. Edelgard bit her lips he continued, growing thicker as he went deeper. At some point he pulled back entirely, to which Edelgard was quick to answer, "You can keep going. I'm well."

He nodded, leaning back, sustained by his arms. The muscles of his shoulders quivered under her palms and she wasn't entirely sure it was the chilly night. He pushed into her again, just experimenting with the ridged head before continuing. As he teased her, she let out a low whimper of impatience, canting her hips up. The angle was awkward, but it was worth it if only for the strangled groan he let out, the way he filled her. A glance down between their bodies and she could see how his cock was only halfway inside, the bulge at the base swollen and red.

Could she take all of it? She would certainly try.

Meanwhile, Hubert was still catching his breath, his eyes tightly closed as if he couldn’t bring himself to look lest it pushed him over the edge. She shifted her hips, adjusting to the new, heavy feeling and, as she did, Hubert moved alongside her to try keep their bodies intertwined, letting out a low groan. Taking the opportunity, she hooked an arm around his shoulders, feeling the rub of his feathers and scales.

“Keep going,” she muttered, carding her fingers on his hair. When he only answered with silence, she grew impatient, moving her hips for just a bit more of that friction that she had tasted earlier. “Please.”

It wasn’t what she planned to say, but it didn't matter, for it had the desired effect. Hubert, shifted, pulling back before thrusting into her again. He established a rhythm, settling an angle that wringing small, soft noises from her with each movement. His wings moved alongside his body, but it didn't appear to be a coordinated motion—closer to an instinctive flap, not unlike how arms would move when walking.

The heat pooling down her lower abdomen continued to grow, setting aside any other thoughts besides the pursuit of pleasure. Slowly, she could feel him go deeper, the burning stretch of being filled making for a nice sensation that she bit her bottom lip, feeling each thrust. Hubert’s chest rumbled as she tightened her grip on him, his movements growing in intensity, trails of fire running up her skin.

Until she felt the firm nudge of the bulge at the base of his cock, pressed against her entrance.

“Edelgard,” he growled, but the sound was stilted, half-choked. “I, please, my lady, I must—Edelgard—”

“Keep going,” she ordered back, her fingers tightening on his shoulder, holding on to him as if he was the last bastion of her control.

For a moment, he stopped altogether, breathing heavily, much to her frustration. It lasted little more than a second, however, until he muttered an agreeable noise, his tail swirling just on her field of vision. He pulled back, slow, teasing, and the ridges rubbed along her nicely, sending sparks all the way down to her toes.

Hubert let out a breathy sound before pushing into her again, firmer, his thrusts settling a quicker pace. Once she felt that firm insistence of his knot, Edelgard realized that she wasn’t on fire yet. Her eyes were half lidded, glossy, staring back at Hubert as concentration filled in the gaps of his expression, in the sharp curves of his cheekbones and in the droplets of sweat running down his temple. Each steady stroke sent a wave of heat up her spine, threatening to burn her alive as she didn’t bother to control her breathy moans anymore. They all would hear. She couldn’t care less.

It burned even as he stretched her further, the bulge slipping inside of her with a wet noise.

She couldn’t deny that the noise he made was more animal than human, despite sounding awfully familiar to a curse. His face twisted as if the whole ordeal pained him, but his cheeks wouldn’t be so flushed if it was truly pain. Her thighs clamped down on him as she relished in the ache. In response, his claws tightened on the covers around her, the ripping noise mixing with the lascivious sounds of their union as he pulled back and thrusted into her once again and she could do nothing but shudder as it felt easier—almost natural—to take him. Her body thrummed with building heat, the satisfaction of taking him fully slipping a smile into her expression.

When he pulled back and thrusted into her again, the knot sliding inside of her with ease as if it was meant to be there all along, the flap of his wings provoked a gust of wind, enough to extinguish the weak flame of the candles, casting the room into darkness.

“Don’t stop,” she roared, commanding, her thighs pressing his hips as her hands fumbled to reach his face. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He obeyed, letting out a guttural sound. She felt for his sharp cheekbones, the long lines of his face, the feathers, the horns. The order just made him more desperate, his body jerking as she felt his weight grounding her against the bed as she squirmed, moving her hips for more friction, for those incendiary flares of pleasure. His tail curled tight around her leg and he let out a grunt as she writhed under him, she was close, very close to letting the flames consumed her—

She came with the feeling of heat flooding her veins, her entire body tightening like the string of a bow. A moan escaped her lips as her body spasmed and she didn’t even bother with trying to stop them. As she clutched him, he groaned, his lips twitching against her errant fingers as he buried himself of her, his arms tensing as he came. Instead of subsiding, the bulge swelled inside of her and she clenched around him, keeping them together.

As she caught her breath, Edelgard found herself caressing his soft curls, keeping the silence as Hubert said nothing, panting hard through his nose. Part of her wanted to ask how long they would be knotted together, part of her acknowledged that it didn’t matter in the end. She preferred it like that, almost.

Her legs were sticky with their wetness and the knot was a steady pressure as he continued to come slowly inside of her. The weight of his body against hers was steadying, not restrictive. Comfortable. Edelgard closed her eyes, adjusting her new, odd position. He grunted, a pleased sound, rumbling deep in his chest.

When she rubbed her cheek against his, she felt the softness of feathers, tickling her skin.

* * *

  
Her legs were the first to protest. The cot creaked as she moved with a groan, soon cursing her too for her decisions the night prior. Her vision was peppered by white dots, her head was still swimming in half-sleep as she tried to get up. Pure instinct. Her body remembered the tent better than she did, the days of war and blood in which she’d to go to sleep after everyone else and wake up before the crack of dawn.

She blinked quickly, fumbling her torn sheets. One other person, however, lived through the same routine. Her heart clenched inside her chest. Despite the low light, a glance was all that she needed to confirm her hypothesis: Hubert was nowhere to be seen. She pressed her lips together, getting up in a single motion. However, her knees faltered, buckling under her own weight. The ache between her legs didn’t subside either and she looked down, cursing her own body for betraying her once again.

Curse it all. She had more important things to be worried about.

Edelgard barely bothered with clothes, tossing a cloak on her shoulders and heading out. The morning breeze greeted her, the cold seeping right into her bones, filling her with an uneasy feeling. The soldiers paced back and forth, probably none of them dared to address their Emperor during such unholy morning hours. Well, would any of them address her considering the events of the prior night? She doubted so. A wave of sheepishness hit her, accompanied by an all too keen awareness of the ache between her legs and the bruises that Hubert probably left on her, which was enough for her to move along, looking for his tent.

It didn’t take long: a tent no different from hers, for his status as general persisted despite the war’s end.

“Hubert,” she called out. A second passed. No answer. She swallowed hard, mustering her boldness. “If you won’t answer, I will enter either way.”

A grumbling sound came from inside, sending a shiver up her spine. She pressed her lips together.

“Very well,” she said, clutching the thick fabric of her cloak. “It is just like you to consider something like this an answer, but I will not.”

She entered the tent, taking measured steps inside. Most of the light baggage he’d brought were still in their cloth bags, all of it undone and cluttered. He hadn't even worked the night prior then, which was a conclusion she should have reached already. He surely had no time to do so, given their activities. Her jaw clenched, her eyes darted from side to side, looking, noticing, scanning. Was Hubert not there at all? If not there, then where?

She took another step inside, her fingers clutching the cloak. Maybe she’d missed  
something, a warning about where he went. It wouldn’t be the first time he escaped her gaze in order to do a task on his own. Still, considering their situation, would he—

A gust of wind made a shiver up her spine and she turned around.

She was right. He didn’t leave. Like a gargoyle from the legends, he stood on two legs, but hunched over, so contorted in his posture that she had to tilt her chin down to look at his face, or whatever was left of it. The feathers had grown, covering all but his eyes, giving space only to a proeminent, curved beak that reminded her of the eagle statues back in Enbarr: curved, solid as rock. The tail thumped on the ground, once, twice.

Her heart clenched as she found herself staring at blank green eyes, the rising sun casting shadows on black feathers.

* * *

“Who would’ve guessed?”

Hubert grumbled back at her. At least, if he couldn't talk, the transformation had spared him one of his main methods of communication. Edelgard could do nothing but stay seated, standing guard as dull green eyes stared back at her, blank, still bearing a glint of recognition but little else. She swallowed hard. Why were they taking so long?

“After all of this, one more hardship for us to go through. I suppose this must be something akin to punishment.”

The grumble came out louder this time as Hubert stood before her, shaking his birdlike head. Edelgard arched an eyebrow, almost amused at the gesture, but, before she could say anything his head snapped towards the entrance. She followed the gesture with her eyes and, two seconds later, Linhardt came in, his attention focused on the stack of papers on his hands. He barely spared her a passing glance before talking.

“The report down Shambhala found nothing of interest, really. All this work for not much of anything.”

Edelgard’s heart sank. She balled her hands into fists, staring straight at Linhardt’s pensive expression.

“Nothing at all? Impossible—”

“Well, then you should talk to the scouts, instead of making me play messenger. I really could be trying to get some more information out of this new state, that would be a lot more interesting.”

An ache inside her chest flared, but found no release. Her eyes darted to Hubert. Monstrous Hubert, more beast than human at this point. She had to steel her resolve. The answer was out there, somewhere. It had to be. She clung to that notion like her life depended on it.

“Then,” she prompted, calculated. “Do that right now. Be careful moving around with him, there’s no need to attract more attention.”

Linhardt raised an eyebrow, but Hubert’s expression—or the lack thereof—was the one that truly tugged at her heartstrings. He simply glanced at her, clicking his beak with a sound she could only assume to be annoyance. It made her feel like her insides were trying to rearrange themselves, with a special focus to her heart sinking.

A gnawing frustration ate her bones, bringing back the memory of mocking worms and fake identities. Before Linhardt could protest, Edelgard got up and left the tent.

The stride that seemed so long only a few hours ago now had to be taken in quick steps as she headed back to her own tent, fighting back the conflicting feelings stirring inside of her. Curse it all! Then again, if only she had been faster, stronger, maybe she could have avoided it. Had she paid attention sooner and not focused only on her own thoughts.

Useless, all of it.

She huffed as she entered her tent, staring at the torn sheets, still messy from the prior night. Her bitterness didn’t subside, but, as her eyes wandered, another idea came to her.

She walked back to her few belongings, fumbling until she found a handle poking out. The rest of the weapon was sheathed in leather, but she could still feel the power coursing through her veins. She bit her bottom lip.

Perhaps she could try.

* * *

The corridors felt quite different when there was no faded screaming making her ears ring. Especially the broken doors, slashed through remorselessly by her hungry axe. Edelgard gripped the handle tighter, ignoring the ache inside her chest. She had promised him that she would find a way, hadn’t she? Then she had to. Even if it was down the chilly underground and its black guts, the stripes of blue and red guiding her towards the last door, leading down the short hallway. Her gaze was unswervingly pointed forward. If her vision wandered off, so would her mind.

Her jaw clenched as she entered the smaller room. The metal boxes still gleamed just as they were left, blinking and brightening at her new intromission, just like its masters. A pervasive smell of eucalypt and iron invaded her senses, enough to make her nose scrunch. The coffin-like structure still stood in the middle of the room, connected to tubes of stale green fluid that she didn’t dare to touch. Edelgard took another step inside, flinching as the sound of her heels echoed in the room.

Her fingers tightened and relaxed around Aymr’s handle as she clung to the familiar weight.

Another step.

Soon, she was before a stain of dried, black blood near a wall. She pulled in and slowly released a deep breath. A memory snapped inside her mind uninvited, her tugging at the sleeves of a sharp man, tall and imposing for a six years old child, but, as she looked back, more she could recognize the pride imbued deep inside of him. The face was muddled, however, mixed with the sallow grey face of Thales, pushing her down the far underground, far below.

Edelgard grit her teeth, but that didn’t stop her knees from weakening, her free hand finding the nearby wall for support.

A moment passed. Her chest heaved with breath. Her eyes were unfocused, too much in her mind, all circular thoughts. Until a laugh bubbled from her chest. Of course. Lysithea was right.

A glance back and she could see the puddle of red and broken glass that made shame so thick in her throat. The tubes were still there, dripping emerald liquid that soon fizzled out into a crimson tone. And the gleaming metal boxes with its indecipherable letters continued to stare at her, mocking inanimate things.

She managed to straighten her posture, but that was all she did. Lysithea was right after all, always telling everyone the truth with her characteristic bluntness. Her foolishness had festered into recklessness, bringing more consequences to Hubert, who had been nothing but loyal and true and… loving.

With a hard swallow, she found strength in her legs to drag herself across the room towards the pool of dried red and fresh green. The eucalypt flooded her senses, enough to make her cough for a moment. But there had to be something the others missed. Something, anything, literally any hint at all—

Her mouth ran dry as she turned around slowly, facing the coffin in the center. Could it be? Maybe, but—

But nothing.

It was worth the shot.

Regaining her strength, she gripped Aymr with both hands, feeling the welcome rush of heat that came with her crests. One swing was all she needed. When she came close enough, the axe arched and plunged into the structure, destroying metal in a single swing. When it was ripped through enough, she opened the coffin, facing herself with a long dead man.

The body was intact, a dark sword so similar to the one the professor yielded laying across the chest. His grey beard and long hair were both pristine and even stylized in braids. And his chest didn’t move at all. Edelgard blinked slowly, unable to comprehend the scene before her. Her eyes wandered aimlessly until they fixated on a thin tube connected to the man’s arm, with a small engraved Crest of Macuil on it.

* * *

She had a solution, hopefully.

Edelgard rushed through the crowded camp, her eyes darting back and forth, not caring for the ferocious axe still in her hands. She had a lead, at last—

And she saw a glimpse of green hair, so she followed it.

“Linhardt,” she raised her voice, all too used to giving orders across the battlefield. The mage halted, much more obedient than usual, but, instead of turning around immediately, he let out a sigh before turning on his heels, his face twisted in a scowl.

“Hello, hello,” he grumbled. “Not so loud, will you?”

“My apologies,” she answered back, dripping with sarcasm, “But I’ve finally got a true lead on Hubert’s condition. I went back down there and I finally have it.”

At least she could try to compensate for all the harm done.

However, Linhardt’s arched eyebrow told her a different tale.

“Well, the problem is that we have no clue where Hubert is.”

* * *

Edelgard still found baffling that they managed to lose from sight a six foot tall man with black wings. It became less outraging when she remembered that the man was Hubert von Vestra, well-known master of deception. According to Linhardt, he took off little after she left, flying off to the thick woods that surrounded the area. Knowing that didn’t make watching the researcher put piece after piece together, after the patient had already fled, feel any better.

“Fascinating,” Linhardt said, tapping a finger on his chin. “It seems like this fluid was meant to power the corpse you found down there. And the tests match that theory too, but not like they do usually.”

Linhardt showed her three sets of drawings. Pointing to the first one, a set of strong, perfectly lined marks, he continued his rambling, “This is a sketch of Byleth’s former Crest lines. As you can see, they are all perfectly distinguishable from one another.” So, he followed to the second, a set of blurry lines, but that was still possible to identify as similar to the previous one. “This is from your Crest, your implanted one. And this is what the samples we collected from Hubert appeared to be.”

Edelgard bit the inside of her cheek. If hers was blurry, then calling Hubert’s a sketch at all was much too generous. It was closer to a mottle of lines that halted and curved all around, hardly any patterns to it at all.

“And how wasn’t this noticed before?” she asked, trying to keep her control.

Linhardt merely shrugged, adding to her bad temper.

“Why would anyone do a Crest lines test on someone who is already known to be Crestless? Especially a noble, considering how muddled the bloodlines can get. I’m now very impressed by how they managed to corrupt this blood so badly, surely this was just meant to power the one you found down there, because nothing about this indicates it was ever tested for humans, truly fascinating...”

“I see no space for admiration here. Just continue working towards an antidote.”

“Right, right, I already have a basis here due to my Crest research...”

As Edelgard turned on her heels, her shoulders dropped, despite the swelling anger. What was that? Fleeing like a child? That wasn’t like him at all. But what could have possibly been the cause for his disappearance otherwise? She walked out of the tent, wandering the way back to her own to see if she could get some rest. As the thoughts swirled inside her, she bumped into someone. As Edelgard muttered an apology, her eyes drew up. White hair, pink eyes and pursed lips on a dainty and nervous expression.

“Lysithea,” Edelgard said first, taking a step back and crossing her arms. “I assume that you came here to see Linhardt. He’s already inside—”

“No, no, I just came to report to you that the pegasi squads haven’t found Hubert yet.”

“Ah.” She smiled back out of politeness, but her lips were quivering as she crossed her arms. “I suppose he would be angry if he was so easily found.”

Lysithea apparently didn’t find the joke nearly as funny as she did, and Edelgard didn’t laugh at all to begin with.

“I just wanted to say sorry for yesterday,” Lysithea said, shaking her head. "I was too abrasive, like I tend to be."

Her eyes widened at the apology and it took her a moment of stunned silence before she could gather her wits and put a hand on Lysithea's shoulder, steadying them both.

"No need for apologies," Edelgard said, squeezing the other woman's shoulders. "You were right after all—I was too reckless. In the end..."

She trailed off, averting her eyes.

"I don't regret it all. Who knows what he could have done if left unchecked. But I cannot deny that you were right, at least, that I was much too careless. I suppose I’m the one who ought to apologize after all.”

Her words must have taken Lysithea by surprise, because she shifted on her weight, placing one hand on Edelgard’s.

“Ugh, I mean, yes, but still, I was far too rude as well. I think,” she paused, pursing her lips. “I must still be angry too. At everything.”

“No one can blame you for it.”

“The same way I can’t blame you for your anger either,” Lysithea retorted, a hint of petulance rearing its head as the girl frowned, pouty. “It’d be terrible of me as well.”

Edelgard couldn’t help but laugh at that. A full laugh for once, despite it all. Lysithea too, this time, smiled back with the slight confusion of someone who didn’t quite get the joke but couldn’t ask them to repeat. She patted her shoulder, a tinge of mirth blossoming on her chest.

“The promise of cake still stands, by the way.” Her heart ached as she looked outside, glancing at the blue sky overhead. She’d have to scold him thoroughly for his stubbornness later when he came back. She didn’t want to think about the if. “When we are done.”

* * *

Linhardt was done by mid-afternoon, but Hubert had yet to be found.

Her restlessness grew with every passing minute, with every dirtied pegasi or horse that came back to the main camp with no news of him. They had been told to track a stray, birdlike Demonic Beast, a lie that made her heart ache at the comparison. Still, it was all they could do to preserve his fragile situation. Rumors of the beastly man that accompanied the Emperor were already plenty; she didn’t need to give them more fuel to spread.

When the mage finally was finished with it, he handed her a flask of green-tinted liquid, runny and smelling of mint.

“I managed to purify part of the sample that was in the tubes down there. He just needs to gulp it all down to make up for the effects of the botched Crest,” he said, stretching after some good hours sitting down as she paced around the messy tent, fighting off the urge to organize it. At least that distraction had kept her frustration at bay. Still, it didn’t get any better when Linhardt continued, “Should at least stabilize the problem, once our least favorite idiot comes back.”

With a heavy sigh, Edelgard felt the light weight of the vial, how warm it was against her skin.

The men outside were already lighting up the bonfires for the night. Her impatience grew by the second now. How could he have been so foolish? Worse, how could she not have noticed his strange behavior earlier? So focused on her own issues, she had failed to see the obvious. Edelgard swallowed hard. How had  
been so foolish?

She clenched her fist around the frail flask, careful as to not break her last chance.

“Thank you, Linhardt.” Her voice softened as he nodded, a smirk plastered on his face. “It means a lot to me that you put so much effort into it.”

“Huh, that’s surprising to hear from you. Thank you, I guess. We both know that he gets into trouble fairly often because of his stubbornness.” He shook his head, apparently still confused at the praise. “I’m just used to it at this point. We can do nothing but wait for him to come back. I’ll be taking a nap if you need me.”

Nothing to do but wait. The words rang hollow inside her mind as he turned around, the flask feeling heavier in her hand.

* * *

The pegasus shook his mane as Edelgard settled in the saddle. It had been far too long since she had last flown, but it didn't matter. The reins felt right in her hands. A glance to one side, to the other. Some guards stayed in their spots, not daring to question the Emperor’s actions, possibly even unaware of her purposes. All they saw was her going for a night ride, to relax from all the daytime stress.

They couldn’t know about the flask safely carried in a cloth bag tied to her belt.

As she tugged the reins, the animal hesitated for a moment before trotting off, gathering speed to take off. The reason fire of the camp, the tents, the back-and-forth movements of soldiers and servants, all of it became blurry dots in the distance.

The night sky shone above, a blanket of stars and darkness, the moon peeking from behind the cover of grey clouds as if observing her endeavor. However, Edelgard’s eyes weren’t cast to the skies, but towards the thick refuge of trees, where shadows made it almost impossible to distinguish anything. She didn’t count the minutes that passed when she was still, high above the forest. As the wind howled, the moon then hidden by the clouds, she guided her pegasus down, careful not to go too close to the canopy. It was the other reason why the search squads were already coming back, besides the poor vision: it was so much easier to fall.

Edelgard swallowed hard, clutching the reins, tapping the pegasus’ flanks to help control the speed whenever she saw a fast blur, but nothing yet. He couldn’t be far, she knew. She knew him too well, or so she hoped. Shame coiled thick in her stomach, but it couldn’t weigh her down, not anymore. As she steered the pegasus into the night, she found herself clutching the flask, feeling its warmth radiating even through the cloth.

A large shadow moved right below her.

She couldn’t see it properly, even as she slowed down and squinted her eyes. The cover of leaves and branches made it too hard to focus on where she’d seen the shadow, all of the darkness mixing and mingling with the forest as if it was only one large beast.

“Hubert,” she called out as she firmly changed the pegasus’ direction towards the blur’s position, but instead of receiving an answer, she heard the whispers of the leaves and the wind. A more definite outline jumped from tree to tree, leaving a trail of black feathers. Avoiding her. She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes, tightening the grip on the warm flask before pressing her heels into the pegasus’s sides and giving chase.

“Hubert!” she growled, her eyes wide as she tried to keep up with his movements and sharp curves. “Come back here, that’s an order!”

He was never given to obeying her orders, truly. A bitter taste settled in her mouth as he continued to run from her, occasionally flapping his wings to gain speed. The chase never seemed to end—whenever she got close, he would find a way to evade her, be it by diving into the forest or taking off for short bursts. He planned to win by exhausting her. Her eyes darted from side to side, trying to find an advantageous position. Amidst the endless abyss that made up the Hrym mountains, there was a dip of leaves, practically obscured by the surrounding canopy of trees. Her heart skipped a beat as her mind came up with a plan.

She guided the pegasus to steer Hubert’s shadow towards the clearing, knowing that he would do everything to stay away from the edge of the mountain. His shadow was unpredictable. For every sudden turn he made, she grunted in frustration, but pressed on until he was close to the edge of the clearing, where there were no high trees for him to jump or fly too.

Before he could turn, Edelgard tugged the reins firmly, halting the pegasus. The animal let out an indignant neigh, scrambling to land.

A piercing cry echoed in the night. Edelgard smirked.

As the pegasus settled, the shadow flapped its wings to fly overhead. She managed to grab its tail and halt its progress. Hubert panted through his beak, flapping large wings and struggling against her grip as she tried to tug him down. He fought back, however, talons kicking the air. The pegasus didn’t help either, panicking before the strange predator.

Edelgard felt like she was in the middle of a tug of war, struggling to keep herself in place while restraining Hubert. She grit her teeth, freeing her feet from the stirrups. Hubert lifted her up with a flap of wings, letting out a squeal at the unfamiliar weight as she used her superior strength to pull him down.

They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, knocking the air out of her lungs. He screeched, his tail whipping at her back, and he scrambled back, getting right before her eyes. But he didn't run. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, staring at the ground as her legs struggled to sustain her weight. As Edelgard felt if the flask was intact, she exhaled in relief as she found the same warmth under her palm, no wetness to indicate a disaster. As her gaze drifted up, she found herself staring into his eyes once again. She smirked.

“I know you better than anyone, Hubert. I bet all those tracking teams were trying to find you far away, but I knew better. You’ve always hated going up the Oghma Mountains on the way back from battles. You wouldn’t go far into this mountain range.” She kept talking as she freed the vial from its satchel, for Hubert kept staring at her, posture hunched but attentive, as if he didn’t quite know what was going on. She swallowed hard before she continued, “You would never let me get hurt either. I will need to apologize to this pegasus later, but I was the perfect bait.

“Now,” she said, standing upright as she finally managed to wrestle off the flask, shaking it slightly on his field of view. “This game is over, Hubert. Come back.”

His wings trembled, but he didn’t move forward. Instead, he shook his large head vigorously, gurgling choked noises as he stepped back. Her heart was beating so fast it threatened to burst as her victorious expression broke, her lips parting with a mute protest. It took her a few seconds to step forward, showing him the green liquid.

“Here, I have an antidote, please,” she muttered, her voice cracking at the end. “You just need to drink it.”

The vigorous shaking stopped, but Edelgard could only stare as his feathers ruffled, the bone-white horns elongated and framing his head, giving him a phantasmagoric appearance framed by the moonlight. She took one more step towards him.

He lunged at her.

The impact sent her careening to the ground. He pinned her down, the image so uncanny that it took her breath away. Her heartbeat almost deafened her to his screech. Only when his wings flapped did she notice that he was trying to fly away, and she acted before she could think.

She shoved him to the side with one arm, using his body weight to pin his wings against the ground. He hissed again, the sound guttural and full of anger, but she didn’t waste any time scrambling to straddle his waist, pressing her free hand to his chest while she gripped the flask, close to breaking it in her haste.

Her plan was shortsighted, however, for his hands were still free. She noticed it a second too late—she felt the sting of his talons slash through her cheek.

Time slowed to a crawl.

It was little more than a scratch—she had suffered through much worse. Yet it still stunned her for a few moments. Fear settled in her throat, choking her, making her eyes burn. Whatever drive that compelled her forward came to a sudden halt, crashing and burning. Her gaze was turned towards him and he too seemed paralyzed, his claws hovering in the air as he stopped struggling, laying very still, staring back at her with wide, bright green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, struggling to control herself. “I know this was all my fault, but, Hubert, please, if—”

In the end, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, dripping onto his beak.

“If you’re still there, I’m sorry. For everything—for turning you into this beast, for stripping you of a peaceful life.”

He stared back at her, soft whimpers leaving his parted beak. The tears wouldn’t stop falling even as she forced his beak open with one hand, biting the cork of the flask and tugging it out before forcing the liquid down his throat. He gurgled and choked, but didn’t struggle as she closed his beak to force him to swallow. She watched his throat bob and her heart skipped a beat. Please, let it work, just this once, she had nothing left to resort to—

He groaned before dropping his head back, his chest heaving with quick, deep breaths. In contrast, Edelgard could only stare, stunned, as he squirmed under her. The horns turned brittle, breaking into short stubs. His beak shrank as he let out a long groan. His hands found her arms, claws prickling, but she could barely feel it as she watched his features rise to the surface again: the long slope of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, his thin lips. The feathers and scales that invaded his head flaked and fell off with every twist of his head, giving space to skin, to hair, to his  
As he blinked slowly, she could only watch as his eyes focused again. He took a deep breath before raising his hand to her face, letting it hover near her wounded cheek.

“Apologies, my lady,” he murmured, his voice too throaty. “I’ve hurt you.”

She barked out a dry laugh, for she didn’t know how else to react.

“I think I deserved it. It’s nothing that won’t heal.”

Her body wobbled, as if whatever last reserve of strength she mustered to fight had gone with Hubert’s most beastly features, evaporating as soon as she could relax. Still, one nagging doubt couldn’t leave her. As she dropped down on his bare chest, placing her ear against him to hear his heartbeat—rapid, uneven, but there, oh so blissfully there—she murmured, struggling to find words, “Why did you flee?”

When he took too long to answer, she fidgeted, raising her head to look at him again. His focus still seemed to be on her wound, even though it wasn’t even bleeding anymore, just an annoying sting. As he kept silent, she found that she would have to press him.

“Did you doubt that I could find a cure?” she said.

To her surprise, Hubert chuckled, a hint of a fang poking from his lip. He cradled the back of her head in a soothing caress.

“Of course not. When you first left, I was already feeling the lack of control of this beastly form. So of course I left so I could stay inconspicuous. After all, I was certain that you would find me again, probably with a cure or two. You put it in your head that you would do it, so I knew you would.”

Another fit of laughter bubbled from her chest, uncontrollable, taking over her.

“If I didn’t know you, I would say that you’re too trusting, Hubert.”

“Only because it is you, my lady.”

Her smile only widened. Hubert smiled too, his whole expression softening. She couldn’t resist it.

“I can already see the rumors,” she mumbled, pushing herself up on her elbows until she was face-to-face with him, staring at his green eyes, his wide, sharp smile. “The Emperor’s devil of a Minister seducing her into the woods.”

He attempted a chuckle, but it ended up muffled by her lips as she pulled him up for a kiss.

* * *

The sheer amount of condolences she received on his behalf was impressive, considering how widely disliked her old Minister of the Imperial Household was.

Nobles from different corners of Fódlan, all sending her heartfelt, grieving messages about how her loyal servant had been, an upright man of undeniable character. It almost made her snicker. No matter what, the solution had been the most obvious one. There was little that could be done to salvage Hubert’s presence in court, so they didn’t.

As Edelgard watched Enbarr’s lights flicker, the spark of reason magic ebbing and flowing with the night air, she couldn’t help but mourn his help, first and foremost. Few knew what the Minister of the Imperial Household truly did for the Imperial Palace, and it was even more duties than she could imagine once she discussed her plan with him. Perhaps, she pondered as the wind howled and the clouds flew overhead, that would be a good opportunity to test who truly would be worthy of her throne bathed in blood.

The sound of wings flapping reached her ears. She stepped back from the window as a shadow perched there, black feathers mingling with the dark sky of the background, casting shadows on the stars. A pair of green eyes stared back at her, thin lips forming a small smile.

“Apologies for the delay.” Hubert’s smooth voice took her out of her thoughts, easing her tense muscles.

“Needless,” she answered, gesturing with her chin towards the room. “Hurry up, unless you want a guard to spot you and think that the Emperor is being attacked by a stray pegasus.”

He chuckled but did as she said, slipping inside the room and landing on his feathery legs. Even though no clothes could quite fit him, he insisted on maintaining his decency with a white shirt and black pants. His tail never quite fit, swirling awkwardly behind him. Perhaps she would have to find another discreet tailor. One that didn’t know he was “dead,” Regardless of her opinion on his clothes, Hubert stood to his full height once again, towering over her with his massive wings.

“So, my lady,” he insisted on the title, despite having no obligation to it anymore. “Any news about my funeral?”

“Boring, but everyone must have taken fashion classes from you, considering the sea of black that I had to face.” With a gesture, Hubert moved closer, hovering over her, his tail coiling around her ankles.

His tone was mocking and light as he continued, “Any tears shed for me?”

“Ferdinand,” she deadpanned. “Despite being fully aware of your safety.”

“Typical,” he murmured, stepping back for a moment and pulling out a few crumpled papers from his pocket, handing it back to her. Notes, she noticed, scribbled in his loopy calligraphy. Notes about the Empire, the nobles, the household.

She glanced over them, noticing the sheer amount of detail written down, details he couldn’t possibly have without inside information. As if reading her mind, Hubert quickly cleared her doubts.

“Despite it all, the Vestra sorcery engineers continue to be hard at work.”

She snickered at that, raising an elegant eyebrow.

“Typical,” she mimicked, shaking her head.

Without missing a beat, Hubert stepped closer. A black, clawed hand ghosted down the length of her arm, until he took one of her hands in his and he leaned down. His lips were warm as he kissed her knuckles, his bright green eyes staring back at her.

“Many things may have changed, but much remains, my lady.”

Truly.

So much had changed, so much remained. She would carry it all with her forever, but not all of it had to be a burden.

Before she could think about it, she hooked her arms around his neck as he straightened up, his feathers tickling her hands. He knew her all too well. He smirked, the very sight of the glint of fangs enough to make her heart beat faster. He leaned in, kissing her, and she knew that he would stay the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comments/Feedback are always appreciated!!!!


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